American  Tales. 


PRICE  1&  CENTS. 


No.  9.  Complete. 


A.  WILLIAMS  &  CO.  Agents,  Boston,  Mass. 


/ 


&, 


RBC 
NcU 


u. 


.viE^^ 


THE 


PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL; 


OB, 


CAPTAIN  HAYWARD'S  "BODY  GUARD." 


M 


BY  LIEUTENAKT-COLONEL  HAZELTINE. 

A-UTHOR  OF  "  The  Boeder  Spy." 


( 


NEW  YORK: 
THE  AMERICAN  NEWS  CO.,  PUBLISHERS'  AGE  NT, 

NO.    131   NASSAU    STREET. 


Eutere<T  according  to  Act  of  Congi'ess,  in  the 

year  1864,  by  SracLAiR  Tousey,  Publishers'  Agent,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District 

Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


I 


THE 


PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


CHAPTER    L 

Brother  and  Sister — Forebodings — Nettleton. 

War  !  Oh  !  how  much  of  misery  is  ex- 
pressed in  that  one  word !  It  tells  its  own 
tale  of  woe,  of  blood,  of  broken  hearts  and 
desolated  homes,  of  hope«  blighted,  of  pov- 
erty and  crime,  of  plunder,  peculation  and 
official  tyranny,  of  murder  and  sudden  death. 
In  short,  it  develops  all  the  baser  passions 
of  the  human  heart,  changing  a  peaceful 
world  to  a  world  of  woe,  over  which  the 
destroying  angel  well  might  weep. 

Come,  oh,  thou  angel,  Peace  ! 

The  "  Army  of  the  Mississippi,"  as  it  was 
termed,  had  been  unsuccessful  in  their  pur- 
suit of  the  rebel  General  Price.  A  portion 
of  it,  or  rather  the  di^^sion  commanded  by 
General  Sigel,  had  advanced  from  Spring- 
field, Missouri,  upon  the  Wilson  creek  road, 
as  far  as  the  famous  battle-ground  rendered 
immortal  by  the  death  of  General  Lyon,  but 
finding  no  enemy,  it  had  encamped  upon 
Grand  Prau-ie,  a  few  miles  to  the  west  of 
the  bloody  field.  All  in  camp  was  upon 
the  "  tip-toe  of  expectation."  The  lovely 
scene  spread  out  before  the  view,  was  suffi- 
cient to  inspire  the  heart  of  man  to  great 
and  glorious  deeds.  The  broad,  rolling 
prairie  lay  there,  like  heaven's  great  carpet. 
The  long  grass  waved  in  the  breeze,  pre- 
senting the  appearance  of  a  deep-green  sea, 
undulating  in  low  swells  as  if  Queen  Mab's 
wand  were  wafting  over  it ;  the  autumn's 
frost  had  changed  thousands  of  the  delicate 
emerald  blades  to  purple,  yellow,  and  scarlet, 
while,  intermixed  with  these,  was  the  white 
prairie  flower,  lending  to  the  scene  an 
almost  fairy-like  aspect.  The  large  "Fre- 
mont" tents  were  arranged  in  rows,  in  a 
tasty  manner ;  flags  were  flying ;  bands 
were  discoursing  sweet  strains  which  echoed 
far  and  wide ;  squads  of  soldiers  in  vari-col- 


ored  imiforms  were  lounging  lazily  on  the 
grass,  while  those  detailed  for  mess  or  gnard 
duty,  were  busily  prosecuting  their  assigned 
tasks.  To  the  east  of  the  camp  appeared  a 
wall  of  forest-kings,  their  verdure,  also, 
touched  by  the  frost,  presenting  a  variety 
of  colors,  and  glistening  in  the  sunlight. 

Few  in  that  small  army  had  witnessed  the 
horrors  of  the  battle-field ;  but,  like  all  "green" 
troops,  conceiving  that  there  was  much  of 
romance  connected  with  the  deadly  field, 
and  that  heroes  were  created  by  a  single 
brave  deed,  the  mass  of  Sigel's  men  were 
eager  to  meet  the  foe.  It  had  been  given 
out  that  the  entire  army  was  to  join  this 
division  on  the  prairies,  and  that  an  advance 
was  to  be  made  at  once  against  Price,  who 
was  then  at  Cassville,  some  forty  miles  dis- 
tant, to  the  southward. 

"  I  think  we  can  safely  count  upon  a  des- 
perate battle  by  the  day  aft;er  to-morrow," 
exclaimed  one  of  a  party  of  five,  seated  with- 
in a  captain's  tent — four  of  whom  were  at  a 
table,  with  cups  and  wme  before  them.  The 
fifth  person  was  making  himself  generally 
useful,  acting  in  the  capacity  of  a  servant. 

"  You  have  fleshed  your  maiden  sword  at 
Springfield,  and  I.  did  not  suppose  you  would 
be  anxious  for  another  fight.  I  confess  I 
can  not  gaze  upon  such  scenes  without  a 
shudder,  and,  if  duty  would  permit,  I  would 
willingly  sheathe  my  sword  forever." 

"  Captain  Hayivard,  you  are  low-spirited 
to-day,"  answered  the  first  speaker. 

"  I  am,  indeed.  Lieutenant  Wells.  And 
can  you  wonder  ?     My  sister  is  here !" 

"  I  only  wish  mine  was  !" 

"  That  is  a  rash  wish,  my  friend.  She 
would  be  exposed  to  much  danger,  and  I 
never  want  mine  to  gaze  upon  a  battle-field. 
No !  where  men  cut  each  other's  throats, 
delicate,  sensitive  women  should  not  be 
near !" 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


"  Could  you  find  no  way  in  •which  to  send 
her  from  Springfield  to  St.  Louis?"  asked 
Wells. 

"  I  could  have  done  so  by  the  mail  coach, 
but,  you  know,  tlie  entire  distance  of  one 
hundred  and  thirty  miles,  from  Springfield 
to  Rolla,  or  to  Tipton  upon  the  other  route, 
is  infested  with  guerrillas,  and  I  feared  to 
scud  her.  I  preferred  she  should  brave  the 
djmgers  of  the  camp  or  even  the  battle-field 
with  me." 

Captain  Hay  ward  bent  his  head  upon  his 
hands  and  was  silent.  It  was  some  moments 
before  any  one  ventured  to  speak.  All  ap- 
peared to  be  oppressed  with  a  strange  sad- 
ness. At  length  one  of  the  party,  Captain 
Gilbert,  slapping  him  familiarly  upon  the 
shoulder,  and  endeavoring  to  speak  gayly, 
said : 

"  Come,  come,  Harry,  this  won't  do  !  you 
must^hake  off  every  vestige  of  blues.  You 
are  suffering  still  from  the  wound  you  re- 
ceived in  the  Warsaw  sldrmish,  and  it  makes 
you  low-spirited.  No  doubt  your  sister  will 
be  perfectly  safe,  and  I  know  she  had  much 
ratlier  be  with  you,  to  assist  you  should  you 
need  her  aid,  than  to  be  safe  in  St.  Louis, 
enduring  the  tortures  of  suspense." 

Hayward  made  no  reply.  At  this  mo- 
ment, a  female,  delicate  and  fair,  came  trip- 
ping lightly  into  the  tent,  her  face  wreathed 
in  smiles,  and  her  eyes  sparkling  with  de- 
light ;  but,  as  she  caught  sight  of  Hayward, 
she  paused,  and  gazed  upon  him  for  a  mo- 
ment, exhibiting  the  most  intense  interest; 
then  advancing,  and  placing  her  hand  upon 
his  shoulder,  she  spoke  : 

"  Brother !" 

Hayward  started,  and  clasping  her  in  his 
arms,  he  pressed  her  close  to  his  heart  for  a 
moment.  But,  gazing  into  his  eyes,  she 
asked : 

"  What  is  the  matter,  dear  Harry,  you  ap- 
pear ill?" 

The  countenance  of  Hayward  underwent 
an  instant  change,  as  he  replied  : 

"Not  HI,  but  somewhat  depressed  in 
spirits,  perhaps,  in  view  of  what  a  day  may 
bring  forth." 

"  Oh  !  Harry,"  she  said,  "  I  hear  there  is 
going  to  be  another  fight.  Will  you  have 
to  go  into  it  and  leave  me  ?" 

"  Should  there  be  a  battle,  J  shall  endea- 
vor to  protect  you,  dear  sister." 

**  But,  you  will  be  in  danger ;  perhaps 
woimded — perhaps  killed  !  Oh !  what  would 
I  do,  then  ?  Don't  go,  Harry !"  and  the  gen- 
tle girl  threw  her  arms  around  her  brother's 

RBC 

Ncq 


neck  and  wept  After  a  moment,  he  raised 
her,  and  pressing  his  lips  to  her  forehea<l, 
said: 

"  I  wish  to  speak  with  these  gentlemen  a 
moment.  Go  to  your  friend  Alibamols 
tent.  I  will  come  for  you,  soon  !"  The 
sister  cast  back  a  look  of  fond  solicitude,  and 
left  the  tent 

Hayward  gazed  after  her  a  moment,  mut- 
tering audibly : 

"  Poor  child,  what  rcmild  you  (fo  if  I 
should  fall.  You  would  mdced  be  alone  !" 
"  Now,  captain,  I  don't  think  that's  half 
fair,"  exclaimed  the  one  spoken  of  as  being 
the  servant.  "  Do  you  think  I  am  such  a 
dam  skunk  as  to — if  you  was  killed — the 
darn — not  to  fight  for  my  capt'n's  sister — 
the  skunk — no,  I  mean,  if  you  die — if  she 
— dam  me,  if  I  don't — I — I — "  and  the 
speaker,  as  if  imable  to  express  what  he  did 
mean,  suddenly  left  the  tent  All  present 
smiled  broadly,  and  good-humor  was  thus, 
for  the  moment,  infhscd  in  all  hearts. 
"  Nettletou  had  a  sudden  call !"  said  one 
"  He  has  gone  to  the  sutler  for  a  dictio: 
ary !"  added  another. 

"  His  heart  is  in  the  right  place,"  remark- 
ed Hayward. 

"  That's  so  !"  responded  all,  with  em 
phasis. 

"  You  are  safe,  Avith  such  a  '  dam  skunk' 
for  your  body-guard,  Captain  Hayward," 
GUbert  declared,  with  comic  seriousness. 

William  Nettleton  was  in  hight  about  six 
feet.  His  general  appearance  was  very  sin- 
gular. His  hair  w.is  nearlj'  white — natu- 
rally so ;  his  eyes  of  a  light  green  and 
large ;  his  carriage  very  loose — indeed,  when 
he  walked,  one  would  almost  expect  to  see 
him  fall  in  pieces.  His  feet  were  huge  in 
dimensions.  He  had  the  appearance  of  a 
half-witted,  Uly-formed  person  ;  but  he  was, 
withal,  neither  one  nor  the  other.  Having 
been  detached  from  the  company  to  which 
he  belonged,  to  act  as  servimt  to  Captnin 
Hayward,  he  soon  became  so  greatly  at- 
tached and  devoted  to  the  captain,  as  to  be 
styled  his  "  body-guard."  This  attachment 
was  not  fictitious,  nor  did  it  proceed  from 
a  spirit  of  military  sycophancy  or  subservi- 
ency V  it  was  felt.  Nettleton  had  evinced 
more  than  ordinary  courage  on  several  oc- 
casions, and  had,  also,  displayed  so  much 
judgment  with  hrs  intrepidity,  that  he  had 
received  offers  of  advancement ;  but  these 
he  declined,  preferring,  as  he  expressed 
himself,  "  to  stay  with  my  capt'n,  the  first 
what  promoted  me." 


THE  CAMP  AT  GRAND  PRAIRIE. 


S 


It  will  also  be  well  to  exi^lain  the  pres- 
ence of  ladies  in  the  camp.  3Iiss  Maniie 
Hayward  was  the  sister  of  Captain  Hay- 
ward,  who,  having  received  intelligence  that 
her  brother  was  wounded,  had  visited  Spring- 
fiGld  for  the  purpose  of  ministering  to  his 
wants.  At  the  time  of  her  arrival  Fremont's 
"  Army  of  the  Mississippi "  was  marching 
upon  that  place,  and  the  journey  from  RoUa 
or  Tipton  was  safe.  But  soon,  those  roads 
were  infested  with  guerrillas,  and,  as  they 
were  poorly  guarded,  it  was  not  thought 
prudent  that  the  ladies  who  had  reached 
Springfield  should  attempt  a  return.  Miss 
Hayward,  therefore,  remained  with  her  bro- 
ther. This  same  reason  will  apply  to  all 
the  ladies  in  camp,  of  which  there  were 
several — conspicuous  among  whom  was  the 
wife  of  Adjutant  Hinton,  one  of  the  officers 
of  the  well-known  "  Benton  Cadets."  She 
was  usually  addressed  as  "  Alibamo" — her 
name  when  a  captive  in  Price's  hands.  She 
was  very  beautiful,  and  of  that  daring,  de- 
termined natui'e  which  has  immortalized  so 
many  women  of  the  West.  In  company  with 
Alibamo,  was  a  young  lady  who  acted  in 
the  capacity  of  waiting-maid,  but  who  rtRly 
appeared  more  like  a  companion.  This  fe- 
male possessed  the  not  particularly  eupho- 
nious name  of  Sally  Long. 

"  I  must  join  with  Nettleton  in  my  re- 
proaches. Captain  Hayward,"  answ^ed 
Lieutenant  Wells,  in  a  subdued  tone.  "  You 
forget  my  conversation  with  you  last  night !" 

"  No,  Wells.  You  informed  me  of  your 
affection  for  my  sister,  but  you  have  never 
addressed  her  as  a  lover.  How  do  you 
know  that  she  will  return  your  love  ?  If 
she  eould  return  it,  I  confess,  lieutenant,  I 
do  not  know  any  one  to  whom  I  would 
mor©  ^willingly  see  her  united ;  but,  if  she 
can  .«ot,  how  could  you  assume  to  become 
hei'j/rotector '?" 

"  If  such  should  be  the  case,  and  the  for- 
tunes of  war  should  deprive  her  of  a  bro- 
ther, rest  assm-ed  that,  not  only  myself,  but 
every  man  in  cami>  would  willingly  shed 
his  blood  in  her  defense,  and  care  for  her  as 
a  sister !" 

"  Thank  you.  I  do  feel  a  foreboding  of 
eviU'  I  believe  I  shall  be  killed  in  the  com- 
ing "battle.  If  this  should  be  the  case,  I 
commend  her  to  your  care.  But,  my  nerves 
are  excited.  I  will  walk  into  the  open  air. 
No  !  I  would  be  alone  1"  he  added,  as  one 
of  the  officers  arose  as  if  to  aecompany  him. 

As  he  left  the  tent  one  of  the  party,  a 
Captain  Walker,  exclaimed : 


"  Well,  I  hope  things  are  all  right,  but  I 
have  my  doubts !" 

"  Your  doubts  of  what  ?"  asked  Wells. 

"  Humph  !  well,  no  matter.  You  are  too 
du-ectly  interested  to  listen  to  the  explana- 
tion. But,  perhaps  you  will  find  out  some 
day." 

"  Do  you  intend,  sir,  to  cast  any  slur  upon 
Captain  Hayward  ?" 

Captain  Walker  did  not  reply,  but  left  the 
tent.  An  hour  or  more  had  passed,  and 
Hayward  did  not  return.  It  was  now  quite 
dark,  when  suddenly  the  assembly  was 
sounded,  and,  all  anxious,  the  troops  fell  in. 
The  order  was  read  : 

"  Pack  knapsacks,  and  have  every  thing 
in  readines9  for  a  move  at  daylight." 

All  was  excitement,  and  every  prepara- 
tion was  made  for  a  forward  movement. 
But  soon  it  began  to  be  whispered  that  the 
orders  were  to  return.  In  a  short  thne  it 
was  officially  annoimced  that  the  movement 
was,  in  reality,  back  to  Springfield,  and  from 
thence  to  EoUa  and  St.  Louis.  JIany  were 
the  expressions  of  disappointment  and  re- 
gret, and  some  even  ventured  to  denounce 
the  policy.  Fremont  had  been  superseded 
in  the  field,  and  General  Hunter,  his  suc- 
cessor, had  abandoned  the  campaign,  thai 
on  the  very  eve  of  its  final  consummation. 


CHAPTER  n. 

TTie  Tragedy  of  the  Stream.  Wlw  was  Ghiittyf 

When  Captain  Hayward  left  the  tent,  he 
proceeded  to  the  stream  which  skirted  the 
woods.  Bending  over  it,  he  bathed  his  fe- 
vered brow.  Then  he  seated  himself  upon 
the  bank  of  the  river,  and,  resting  his  head 
upon  his  hands,  was,  for  a  long  time,  ab- 
sorbed in  his  thoughts.  A  human  form 
flitted  lightly  past.  Hayward  raised  his 
head  and  listened,  but  all  was  quiet  again, 
and,  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  he  could 
distinguish  nothing. 

"  I  was  mistaken  1"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  K I  was  not,  and  a  human  being  is  around, 
I  will  wager  it  was  Nettleton,  who,  anxious 
for  my  safety,  has  followed  me." 

The  captain  was  again  silent  for  a  mo- 
ment, when  the  breaking  of  a  twig  betrayed 
the  presence  of  some  person.  Hayward 
raised  his  head  and  called : 

"  William  !     WiUiam  Nettleton !" 

"  Sir !"  answered  a  voice  but  a  few  feet 
from  the  captain. 


6 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


"  Why  did  you  follow  me,  "William  ?"j 

"  Cos  I'm  a  darn  skunk,"  drawled  the 
person  addressed,  as  he  emerged  out  of  the 
darkness.     "  And Ourse  yau  /" 

The  person  speaking  was  before  him.  In 
an  instant  Hayward  sprung  to  his  feet,  but, 
,  TPith  a  crj'  of  agony  exclaimed :  "  Great 
Grod,  Nettleton — why  have  you — oh  God, 
save  me — you've  killed  me — I  die  !"  And, 
falling  heavily  forward,  the  words  died  up- 
on his  tongue. 

The  murderer  bent  over  the  murdered 
for  a  moment ;  then,  with  some  haste,  roll- 
ed the  body  into  the  water,  and  turned  from 
the  spot.  He  paused  under  the  shad*  of 
a  tree,  and  listened  for  the  tread  of  a  sentry, 
that  he  might  enter  the  camp  unobserved. 
With  a  half-suppressed  laugh  he  uttered  his 
thoughts : 

"  I  have  done  it,  sure  ;  and  now  that  it 
is  done,  I  must  progress — no  retreating  now. 
I  think  I'll  win.  Good-by,  captain,  and  give 
my  respects  to  my  friends  as  you  float  down- 
stream." 

He  proceeded  with  caution  toward  the 
camp,  and  was  soon  lost  in  the  city  of  canvas. 

The  tattoo  soon  sounded.  Lights  were 
extinguished,  and  all  was  quiet,  save  in  a 
few  tents,  which  appeared  to  be  those  of 
officers.  Yet,  there  were  aching  hearts 
within  that  camp,  and,  as  the  night  pro- 
gressed, many  were  the  anxious  inquiries  as 
to  why  Captain  Haywaixl  did  not  return. 

In  a  large  tent,  near  that  occupied  by 
Captain  Hayward,  were  seated  three  ladies. 
One  was  iMiss  Hayward  ;  another  was  Ali- 
bamo,  or,  as  she  is  now  a  wife,  she  should 
be  called  Mrs.  Adjutant  Hinton  ;  the  other 
was  Miss  Sally  Long,  the  waiting-maid  of 
Alibamo.  Before  this  tent  paced  a  special 
guard  ;  beside  it  was  a  tent  of  much  smaller 
dimensions,  occupied  by  Nettleton  and  his 
servant,  black  George,  or,  as  Nettleton  used 
to  call  him,  "  Swasey's  nigger." 

"  I  fear  something  has  befallen  my  bro- 
ther. He  does  not  return,  and  it  is  now 
twelve  o'clock !" 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,"  said  Alibamo,  in  a 
soothing  voice ;  "  your  brother  is  most 
likely  at  the  head-quarters  of  General  Sigel. 
He  may  be  detained  on  business.  Come, 
lot  us  retire." 

"  No,  not  while  my  brother  is  absent." 

At  this  moment  the  guard  came  to  the 
tent  entrance  and  said  : 

"  Ladies,  if  you  have  not  yet  retired  Cap- 
tain Walker  requests  the  pleasure  of  a  few 
words  with  Miss  Hayward." 


"  Oh,  Alibamo,  I  fear  that  man  ;  he  looks 
at  me  so  strangely.  But  perhaps  he  bring? 
news  of  my  brother.  I  will' see  him.  Bid 
the  captain  enter." 

As  Walker  entered  he  appeared  agitated, 
but  controlling  his  emotions,  he  said  : 

"  Ladies,  you  will  pray  excuse  me.  I 
feel  tliat  I  mvst  speak  now,  as  it  may  be  my 
last  opportunity.  We — or,  I  should  say  the 
army — will  be  separated  at  Springfield,  and 
I  shall  see  you  no  more." 

"Do  you  bring  news  of  my  brother?" 
asked  ^liss  HajTvard. 

"  No  !  His  disappearance  is  very  strange. 
But  I  came  to  speak  of  myself" 

"  What  would  yqu  say  ?" 

"  This,  Miss  Hayward.  I  have  loved  you 
long  and  dearly.  To-morrow  we  may  be 
parted,  and  I  would  ask  you,  should  the 
fortunes,  or  rather  the  misfortunes,  of  war 
deprive  you  of  a  brother's  love  and  protec- 
tion, will  you  not  permit  me  to  seek  you 
out  and  become  your  future  protector  ?" 

"  Captain   Walker,  these   words  gurprifle 
me,  and  I   think  propriety  demandeil  that   ,  _ 
th^  should  have  been  spoken  in  the  prea-    ' 
eWfe  of  my  brother."  -'^^ 

"  Pardon  mC,  dear  lady.  I  have  waited 
until  this  hour  for  your  brother's  return,  and 
at  last,  fearing  I  should  have  no  other  op- 
portunity, I  ventured  to  visit  you  now.  You 
have  a  friend  and  sister  in  Alibamo,  and 
surely  you  will  not  fear  to  speak  before  her." 

"  I  can  not  answer  your  question — it  re- 
fers to  the  future." 

"  Then  for  the  present.  Let  me  speak 
plainly,  and  I  beg  you  will  do  the  same. 
Can  you  not  at  least  regard  me  nmc  as  yoiu" 
friend  and  protector,  and  give  me  a  friend's 
privileges  ?" 

The  timid  girl  turned  toward  Alibamo, 
and  in  an  inaudible  voice,  spoke  a  wop^. 

"  She  answers  promptly,  no  /"  ntJliw^ 
Alibamo,  somewhat  sterner  than  WBS  her 
usual  manner. 

"  You  lore  another,  then  ?"  asked  Walker. 

Miss  Hayward  did  not  reply.  ; 

"  Is  the  favored  one  Lieutenant  ^^|i]s  ?" 
again  asked  Walker.  jK 

"  You  are  impertinent,  Captain  W^^er," 
replied  Alibamo.  "  I  must  request  you  to 
retire.  How  can  you  thus,  in  her  brother's 
absence,  address  her  in  this  manner  ?" 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  commotion 
in  the  tent  of  Nettleton.  The  voice  of  the 
negro  was  heard,  exclaiming  : 

"J  he'rd  you,  massa  Nettleton.  There 
ain't  no  use  in  you   denyin'   it.     I   he'rd 


THE  MURDER  OF  CAPTAIN  HAYWARD. 


massa  cap'n  say, '  Ob,  Nettleton,  ye  kill  me  !' 
Oh  Lord,  if  eber  I  get  out  ob  dis  scrape, 
ye'U  neber  catch  dis  chile  in  such  another 
one." 

"  Is  the  nigger  crazy  ?  "What  is  the 
dam  skunk  talking  about  ?" 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  make  b'lieve  ignora- 
mus on  dis  'ere  question.     I  he'rd  ye." 

"  Now,  look  a  here,  you  unconscionable 
dark;  if  you  have  got  any  thing  to  say, 
apit  it  out.  Don't  make  a  dam  skunk  of 
yourself" 

"  Oh !  won't  I  fotch  ye  up  in  de  morn- 
ing ?     Yes,  sah !" 

"  Are  you  going  to  speak,  and  say  what 
you  mean  ?" 

"  Oh,  golly  !  You  go  back  on  de  cap'n 
dat  way !" 

"What  cap'n?  Out  with  it,  or  I'll 
break  your  head  and  every  bone  in  your 
body,"  exclaimed  Nettleton,  in  a  state  of 
midisguised  excitement. 

"  Serve  dis  nigger  as  ye  did  de  cap'n, 
and  den  put  his  body  in  de  riber !" 

The  negro  had  scarcely  uttered  these 
words  when  Nettleton  seized  him.  He  set 
up  a  terrible  howl,  which  brought  Ca^iin 
Walker  to  their  tent. 

"  What  is  all  this  f\iss  about  ?"  asked 
Walker. 

The  negro  went  on  to  explain  as  follows : 

"  Why,  ye  see,  massa  cap'n,  I  went  ober 
to  dat  yar  house  across  de  riber,  to  see  Miss 
Julia,  a  col'd  gal  dat  used  to  be  my  sweet- 
heart. Well,  I  see'd  de  Johnnies  comin', 
and  I  run  down  to  de  riber  to  come  on  dis 
side,  but  dey  come  so  close  to  me  dat  dis 
chile  hid  behind  a  big  log.  Den  dey  stop 
right  by  me,  and  say,  '  Golly,  we  can't 
cotch  nobody.'  Den  I  he'rd  some  one  on 
de  Oder  side  ob  de  riber  say,  "  Oh,  Nettle- 
ton, you — " 

"  Silence  this  stuff!  You  have  been 
drunk.  If  you  speak  upon  this  subject 
again,  I'll  Cut  your  black  throat." 

"  I'se  dumb,  massa  cap'n." 

Quiet  had  now  been  restored,  and  all 
parties  retired  for  the  few  hours  that  inter- 
vened before  morning.  But  it  was  evident 
all  were  not  asleep.  Several  times  a  stealthy 
step  was  heard,  and  a  shadow  flitted  past 
the  white  canvas  tent,  dimly  seen  by  the 
pale  starlight. 

Morning  came  at  last,  and  all  was  astir. 
Captain  Hayward  had  not  yet  returned. 
The  inquiry  was  made  if  any  one  had  seen 
him. 

"  I  have  not  seen  him  since  last  evening 


at  twilight,  replied  Walker,  "  at  which  time 
he  acted  very  strangely,  and  talked  about 
the  injustice  of  war.  I  am  inclined  to 
think  he  has  deserted  and  joined  the  enemy." 

"  Oh,  you  darn  skunk  I"  yelled  Nettleton, 
as  he  sprung  forward,  and  was  about  to 
strike  the  speaker.  But,  checking  hiinself, 
he  added  :  "It's  weU  you  wear  them  gilt 
things  on  your  shoulders,  or  I'd  teach  you 
to  call  my  cap'n  such  names." 

"  If  you  would  save  yourself  trouble  you 
had  better  remain  quiet,  Nettleton,"  replied 
Walker,  aa  he  fixed  his  eyes  significantly 
upon  him. 

"  I  knows  where  Cap'n  Hayward  am," 
said  the  negro,  stepping  forward. 

"  Where  is  he  ?"  sobbed  Miss  Hayward, 
pressing  forward,  in  her  eagerness. 

"  He  is—" 

"  Silence  !"  yelled  Walker. 

"  Let  him  speak,"  said  the  colonel.  "  Gk) 
on,  George.     Where  is  the  captain  ?" 

"  Down  dar  !"  The  negro  trembled  vio- 
leutly,  and  glanced  at  Nettleton. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  He's  in  de  riber — killed  dead,  sure  !** 

A  wild  shriek  rose  upon  the  air  as  Miss 
Hayward  fell  back  into  the  arms  of  Alibamo, 
insensible. 

"  By  whom  was  he  killed  ?" 

"  By  massa  Nettleton  dar,  snre.  I  he'rd 
across  de  riber,  jis  as  plain  as  day." 

Nettleton  started  back  in  horror,  his  eyes 
extending  widely,  and  his  frame  trembling. 
A  general  murmur  of  disbelief  ran  through 
the  crowd. 

"  Did  you  see  him  do  the  deed  ?"  asked 
the  colonel. 

"  Golly,  I  couldn't  see  much,  it  war  so 
dark.  But  I  hear  massa  cap'n  say,  '  Oh, 
Nettleton,  you  kill  me  1'  Golly,  see  how 
massa  Nettleton  shake !" 

"  Where  was  this  ?" 

"  Rite  down  by  dat  tree.  His  blood  is 
all  ober  de  ground  ;  I  jest  see  it." 

In  an  instant  Nettleton  had  dashed  off 
for  the  spot  indicated.  In  accordance  with 
an  order  from  the  colonel  he  was  pursued. 
Reaching  the  locality  named,  he  gazed  upon 
the  ground.  It  was  red  with  blood — fresh 
blood.  He  threw  himself  upon  the  earth, 
and  wept  and  moaned,  and  called  upon  his 
captain  to  retum.  His  grief  was  terrible 
to  behold.  By  this  time  the  officers  and 
many  of  the  men  had  arrived.  They  gazed 
upon  the  grief-stricken  servant  with  respect, 
and  more  than  one  expression  of  sympathy 
was  heard. 


8 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MttL. 


"  If  Captain  Nettleton  has  been  murdered, 
it  was  not  by  that  boy.  Nettleton  loved 
his  captain  too  much  to  harm  him,"  said 
Lieutenant  Wells.  "  I  am  inclined  to  think 
tlie  deed  has  been  done  by  skulking  guer- 
rillas." 

"  I  incline  to  your  opinion,  Lieutenant 
Wells,  as  to  the  innocence  of  Nettleton. 
But,  as  to  the  deed  having  been  done  by 
guerrillas,  it  is  not  likely.  It  is  much  too 
near  camp." 

"  But  Hayward  certainly  had  no  enemy 
in  our  camp  who  would  have  done  this 
deed." 

"  We  do  not  know  the  secret  motives 
which  animate  tlie  human  heart,"  replied 
Walker,  in  a  tone  and  manner  not  devoid 
of  meaning. 

"  Let  instant  search  be  made  for  the  body," 
commanded  the  colonel.  It  was  done,  but 
no  trace  of  it  could  be  found,  although  the 
water  was  too  shallow  to  have  permitted  it 
to  float  down  the  river.  Attention  was 
again  directed  to  Nettleton,  who  was  sitting 
erect,  gazing  at  a  piece  of  sharp,  bloody 
steel  which  he  held  in  his  hand.  Viewing 
it  a  moment,  he  sprung  to  his  feet,  and  fixed 
his  eyes  upon  Lieutenant  Wells.  Then  he 
turned  to  the  colonel  and  luanded  him  the 
blade.  That  oflBcer  examined  it  Directing 
Ms  gaze  upon  Lieutenant  Wells,  he  asked  : 

"  Has  any  one  among  you  a  small  Span- 
ish dirk,  with  a  highly-polished  and  orna- 
mented blade  ?" 

"  I  Md  such  a  one,"  replied  Wells,  "  but 
I  have  missed  it  for  several  days." 

The  colonel  instantly  turned  toward  the 
camp,  commanding  all  to  follow  him.  He 
halted  before  the  tent  of  Lieutenant  Wells, 
and  said : 

"  Tou,  Captain  Walker,  and  you,  Adju- 
tant Hinton,  enter  thia  tent,  and  tell  me 
what  you  find." 

The  search  lasted  but  a  moment,  during 
wiiich  time  Wells  had  been  assisting  Miss 
Hayward,  but  not  without  evincing  much 
agitation.  Walker  now  appeared,  holding' 
in  his  hand  a  bowl  of  bloody  water,  and 
exhibiting  the  broken  stiletto,  covered  with 
blood,  which  had  been  found  in  the  over- 
coat pocket  of  Wells.  A  shirt,  also,  was 
found,  which  was  stained  with  blood. 

"What  can  you  say  to  this  damning 
proof  of  your  guilt  ?"  asked  the  colonel. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  it." 

"  Arrest  the  murderer  of  Captain  Harry 
Hayward  !"  commanded  the  colonel,  in  a 
loud  voice. 


The  guards  instantly  seized  him. 

"Murderer!  lie  a  murderer — and  of 
my  brother !  No !  no !  This  is  some  dread- 
ful dream.  Oh,  tell  me  my  brother  is  not 
murdered ;  it  will  kill  me.  Oh,  see !  Pity 
a  friendless  girl  who  kneels  to  you  and  begs 
you  to  tell  her  that  you  have  not  deprive<l 
her  of  a  dear  brother.  Speak  to  me,  Ed- 
ward. I  did  love  you,  and  you  would  not 
harm  him." 

Wells  could  not  speak.  He  had  never 
spoken  to  ^Miss  Hayward  of  his  love  for 
her ;  but  now,  in  the  delirium  of  her  grief^ 
she  had  confessed  her  love  for  him.  Oh, 
what  a  moment ! 

Walker  advanced  to  raise  Miss  Hayward 
from  her  bended  position  before  W^Us. 

"  Paws  ofl",  ye  dam  skunk  T'  yelled  Net- 
tleton, as  he  hurled  Walker  to  the  groimd. 
"  /  alone  am  her  protector  now." 


CHAPTER  HI. 

TJie  Proposal — TTie  Interruption — The  Indian 
—TTie  Bescu^—The  Wounded  Man^The 
Jifystery. 

Near  the  village  of  Ozark,  at  the  base  of 
a  ridge  of  mountains  of  that  name,  runs  a 
most  beautiful  stream  or  river,  which  bears 
the  name  of  the  village,  and  is  one  of  the 
tributaries  of  the  noilh  fork  of  the  Gascon- 
ade. Its  banks  are  high,  and  covered  with 
a  thick  but  small  growth  of  the  "  scrub  " 
oak,  peculiar  to  that  portion  of  ^Missouri. 
The  bed  of  the  river  sparkles  with  brilliant 
white  and  yellow  pebbles,  polished  by  the 
rush  of  waters  for  thousands  of  years.  A 
fine  bridge  spans  the  stream  along  the  main 
road,  that  nms  through  the  only  opening 
in  the  forest  for  miles  around.  After  cross- 
ing this  bridge,  and  ascending  a  sharp  hill, 
the  village  of  Ozark  is  reached.  This  con- 
sists of  about  twenty  ordinary-looking  dwell- 
ings, a  court-house,  and  a  rough  building, 
dignified  by  the  name  hotel.  Beyond  the 
village,  and  higher  up  the  mountain,  is  a 
line  of  rolling  hills,  which  overlook  the 
coimtry  for  mUes  around.  On  one  of  these, 
and  near  the  edge  of  a  grove,  were  to  be 
seen  a  cluster  of  tents,  and,  from  the  num- 
ber of  horses  picketed  but  a  short  distance 
away,  it  would  at  once  be  supposed,  from 
a  distance,  to  be  a  cavalry  camp,  -ftith,  per- 
haps, a  section  of  artillery. 

On  a  sloping  point,  extending  from  the 
side  of  the  bridge  to  the  stream,  and  reclin- 
ing upon  the  turf,  were  two  persons.     The 


THE  WOUNDED  OFFICER 


9 


one  a  young  man  of  marked  appearance, 
and  the  other  a  female  of  much  beauty,  al- 
though her  ch-ess  bespoke  her  a  native  of 
that  portion  of  the  country. 

•'  Nettie,  when  do  you  expect  your  sister 
to  return?" 

"  It  Is  difficult  to  answer,  Charles,  but  I 
trust  very  soon." 

"  Have  you  not  heard  from  her  recently?" 

"  No.  There  is  no  way  in  which  she  can 
communicate  with  me.  The  mails  have 
been  discontinued,  you  are  aware,  from  KoUa 
to  Springfield." 

"  K  you  can  visit  the  army,  I  presume  you 
can  both  dispatch  and  receive  letters.  Are 
you  not  very  anxious  to  Iqarn  how  she  is 
treated  among  the  Federals  ?" 

"  I  am  most  anxious ;  still  I  have  no  fears." 

"  I  can  not  feel  as  you  do  upon  that  sub- 
ject. I  would  not  awaken  useless  fears  in 
your  breast,  but  /  have  not  so  much  confi- 
dence in  theu'  magnanimous  natures." 

"  Charles,  you  told  me  to-day  for  the  first 
time,  that  you  loved  me,  and  asked  me  if  I 
could  not  address  you  as  dear  Charles.  You 
have  been  very  kind  to  me,  and,  on  one  oc- 
casion, you  rescued  me  from  the  hands  of  a 
villain.  I  feel  grateful — Iruly  so.  But, 
whatever  my  feelings  may  be,  I  never  can 
wed  my  countiy's  enemy.  Look  yonder. 
You  see  that  .white  cottage.  Once  it  was 
beautifully  adorned  with  creeping  vines,  and 
the  lawn  before  it  bloomed  with  flowers  and 
shrubbery.  But,  dearer  than  all,  within  its 
walls  hved  my  father  and  my  sister.  Look 
at  it  now !  Its  beauty  has  departed — it  is  a 
icreck ;  father  and  sister  have  been  driven 
from  it,  while  I  have  been  detained  here  by 
force.  You  profess  to  love  me.  If  you  do 
80,  prove  it  !  "We  are  now  more  than  a  mile 
from  the  rebel  camp,  and  you  can  escape 
with  me  to  Springfield." 

"  I  will  assist  you  to  escape ;  indeed,  I  will 
accompany  you  a  portion  of  the  way  to 
Springfield.  But  I  must  return  to  my  own 
people  and  fight  with  them  to  the  last.  I 
do  love  you,  and  I  would  become  your  hus- 
band, gladly,  if  I  could  be  satisfied  you 
loved  me  for  myself  alone.  But,  I  can  not 
•  sacrifice  one  jot  of  honor  or  principle  to  win 
even  you,  dear  Nettie." 

"  And  you  will  go  with  me,  now  ?" 

**  Yes — stay,  what  is  that?  Did  you  not 
hear  a  low,  moaning  sound  ?" 

"  I  heard  nothing." 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  am  mistaken.  But  I 
fancied  I  heard  such  a  sound.  No  matter. 
I  will  go  with  you  now  to  Springfield." 


"  To  what  purpose,  young  man  ?" 

The  speaker  was  a  powerful  person,  and 
had  emerged  from  the  bridge  just  in  time  to 
hear  the  last  sentence  of  Charles  Campbell. 

"  So,  sir,"  he  continued,  "  you  would  de- 
sert us,  and  join  the  Yankees,  and  all  for 
your  foolish  regard  for  this  vixen !" 

"  Colonel  Price,  if  you  were  not  an  officer 
I  would  make  you  eat-  your  words.  I  have 
served  you  faithfully,  and  you  have  no  right 
to  question  my  loyalty.  I  do  not  intend  to 
desert,  neither  is  this  lady  a  vixen  any  more 
than  you  are  a  cowardP 

Price  started,  bit  his  hps,  and  fi'owned 
fiercely.     At  length  he  asked : 

"  Why  did  you  propose  visiting  Spring- 
field with  this ludy  ?" 

"  I  intended  to  accompany  her  a  portion 
of  the  way, -and  then  to  return  to  my  duty." 

"  Why  does  she  wish  to  visit  Springfield  ?" 

"  Because  her  father  and  sister  are  both  in 
St.  Louis,  and  she  wishes  to  rejoin  them." 

"  Did  not  yonder  cottage  belong  to  her 
father  ?" 

"  It  did." 

"  He  was  one  of  the  most  bitter  opposers 
in  this  section.  And  you  love  his  abolition 
daughter  ?" 

"  I  love  his  daughter,  sir !" 

"  Enough."  You  will  return  to  camp  this 
moment  I  will  take  charge  of  this  young 
lady.  When  I  rejoin  you,  I  shall  put  your 
loyalty  and  your  courage  to  the  test.  Do 
you  see  yonder  boat  ?" 

He  pointed  up  the  river.  A  small  boat 
was  seen  floating  down  the  stream,  in  which 
three  men  were  sitting  erect,  and  the  form 
of  a  fourth,  lying  prostrate. 

"  How  do  you  propose  testing  my  loyalty. 
Colonel  Price  ?" 

"  That  boat  contains  a  Yankee  officer. 
He  is  to  be  hung  up  by  the  neck.  You  shall 
perform  the  job." 

"  Is  not  that  man  wounded,  Colonel 
Price?" 

"  Yes,  very  badly  so,  I  am  informed." 

"  Then  IwiU  not  perform  tJie  base  thing  yoxc 
propose." 

Price  drew  a  revolver,  and  pointing  it  to 
the  head  of  Campbell,  commanded  him  to 
start  at  once  for  camp.  He  had  scarcely 
done  so,  when  a  powerful  Indian  sprung 
from  concealment,  and  snatched  the  weapon 
from  his  hand.  At  the  same  time  he  seized 
Price,  as  if  he  had  been  a  child,  and  hurled 
him  into  the  water  below.  Without  waiting 
to  watch  the  result  of  this  sudden  immersion 
upon  the  chivalrous  colonel,  he  caught  the 


10 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


maiden  in  his  arms,  and  bounded  oflF  in  the 
direction  of  Springfield.  As  be  started,  be 
beckoned  to  the  young  man  and  muttered : 

"  Come — follow — me  save  her !" 

Price  floundered  about  in  the  water  for  a 
moment,  and  finally  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  shore  just  as  the  boat  came  up. 

"■Come — quick — ^join  me  in  the  pursuit !" 
yelled  Price. 

The  three  men  leaped  upon  the  bank, 
dnd,  at  the  command  of  Price,  all  discharged 
their  pieces  after  the  retreating  In(,liim,  but 
without  eflect.  Pursuit  was  then  ordered, 
but  Price,  observing  that  Campbell  did  not 
follow,  turned  and  asked : 

"  Are  you  not  coming,  sir  ?" 

"  No  !"  was  the  prompt  reply. 

Price  felt  for  his  revolver,  but  finding  it 
gone,  he  only  muttered,  "  Curse  you,"  and 
then  commenced  the  pursuit.  For  over  a 
mile  it  was  kept  up.  The  pursuers  gained 
upon  the  Indian,  who  was  considerably  ob- 
structed in  his  flight  by  the  weight  of  the 
female.     At  last  Price  exclaimed  : 

"  By  the  eternal,  there  come  the  Yankees !" 

Sure  enough,  just  appearing  in  view  upon 
an  elevated  point  a  little  beyond,  was  seen 
a  squadron  of  cavalry,  and  a  section  of  flying 
artillery  rapidly  advancing, 

"  To  the  hill !  Give  the  signal  for  our 
guns — to  the  bridge — secure  the  prisoner 
in  the  boat !" 

These  commands  were  given  by  Price,  as 
he  commenced  a  rapid  retreat  toward  the 
bridge.  Pausing  on  the  hill  just  before 
reaching  it,  he  unfurled  a  small  flag  and 
made  a  signal.  In  an  instant  all  was  astir 
in  the  rebel  camp,  and  artillery  and  cavalry 
soon  came  dashing  down  the  hill. 

"  Where  is  the  prisoner  ?"  yelled  Price,  as 
he  came  to  the  bridge. 

"Perhaps  the  yoimg  man  you  left  here 
has  taken  him  to  camp." 

"  But  the  boat  is  gone  !  However,  there 
is  no  time  to  be  lost,  now.  They  are  upon 
us !     Quick !" 

Colonel  Price  started  for  the  opposite  end 
of  the  bridge,  followed  by  his  three  confed- 
erates. The  rebel  troops  were  still  some 
distance  from  that  end  of  the  bridge  nearest 
their  camp,  which  it  was  evident  they  in- 
tended reaching,  if  possible,  in  order  to 
sweep  the  narrow  passage,  if  the  Union 
forces  attempted  to  cross.  The  Federals, 
however,  were  the  first  to  gain  that  point. 
But,  had  a  crossing  been  effected,  as  soon  as 
ttiey  reached  the  opposite  side  they  would 
have  been  exposed  to  the  most  galling  fire 


of  the  enemy,  as  there  was  a  large  space  of 
flat,  swampy  ground  in  front ;  and  then  a 
sharp  bluif,  upon  which  the  rebel  artillery 
would,  in  such  a  case,  be  planted.  The 
commander  of  the  Federals,  observing  thi« 
situation  at  a  glance,  ordered  a  halt,  and 
brought  his  section  of  artillery  into  i)osition. 
One  piece  was  placed  so  as  to  enfilade  the 
bridge,  and  the  other  upon  a  little  rise  of 
ground,  in  a  position  where  it  could  sweep 
their  lines  beyond.  The  rebels  observing 
this,  threw  forward  two  guns,  amid  a  deadly 
fire  from  the  Unionists,  and  succeeded  in 
taking  a  position  upon  the  opposite  end  of 
the  bridge.  Several  rounds  of  grapc'were 
hurled  back  and  forth,  but  as  the  C0Y;er  waa 
good,  but  little  damage  was  done.''^  The 
cavalry  attempted  a  crossing,  but  the  thick 
growth  of  oaks  prevented.  A  charge' waa 
about  to  be  ordered  across  the  bridge,  when 
an  explosion  took  place,  and  it  was  shat- 
tered to  fragments.  Taking  advantage  of 
this,  the  rebels  made  a  rapid  flight.  Ai 
pursuit  was  useless,  the  command  was  given 
to  fall  back  to  Springfield. 

The  Indian  we  have  spoken  of  now  ap- 
proached the  commander,  leading  the  trem- 
blmg  woman,  and  said : 

"  Me  save — you  save — white  squaw  V 

"  Do  you  require  my  protection  ?"  asked 
the  commander. 

Nettie  told  her  story  in  an  artless  manner, 
of  which  the  reader  has  gleaned  all  neces- 
saiy  2:»articulars.  She  was  kindly  provided 
for,  and  soon  reached  Springfield  in  perfect 
safety. 

Soon  after  the  arrival,  a  soldier  came  to 
the  tent  of  the  commanding  officer,  present- 
ing a  bit  of  paper. 

"  Colonel,  I  picked  up  this  scrap  near  the 
bridge,  but  did  not  look  at  it  imtil  this  mo- 
ment.    It  may  be  of  importance." 

The  colonel  took  the  paper  and  read 
aloud : 

"  A  suspicion  of  my  fidelity  to  the  Confed- 
erate cause  has  crossed  the  mind  of  my  com- 
manding officer,  Lieutenant-Colonel  A.  M. 
Price,  simi^ly  because  I  consented  to  assist 
Miss  Nettie' ^lorton  to  reach  Springfield, 
from  which  point  she  might  be  able  to  rejoin 
her  friends,  who  formerly  resided  in  Ozark, 
but  are  now  in  St.  Louis.  I  was  condemned, 
in  consequence,  to  be  the  executioner  of  a 
icounded  Federal  officer.  At  this  cowardly 
act  my  whole  nature  revolted.  Chance  has 
favored  me,  and  I  have  determined  to  save 
him.  In  what  manner  I  can  not  here  write, 
fearing  this  paper  should  fall  into  Confederate 
hands,  and  my  plans  b^  thus  interrupted.  I 
can  not  learn  who  he  is.  I  asked  his  name, 
and  I  have  some  reason  to  beUeve  that  Misa 


NETTLETON'S  SEARCH  FOR  THE  CAPTAIN'. 


11 


Morton  may  throw  some  light  upon  the  sub- 
ject, as  the  only  words  he  spoke  were  '  Net — 
murdered — sister—.'  He  bore  the  rank  of 
captain.  Charles  Caicpbell." 

The  colonel  turned  toward  3Iiss  Morton, 
■who  was  seated  in  his  tent,  and  asked : 

"  Do  you  feel  any  especial  interest  in  any 
Union  officer  now  with  us  ?" 

Miss  Morton  hung  her  head  and  blushed. 

"  Do  not  fear  to  speak,  and  frankly,  too, 
Miss  Morton.  Perhaps  the  welfare  of  one 
you  love — perhaps  his  safety,  may  depend 
upon  your  candid  confession." 

"  I— I—" 

"  Have  you  ever  met  one  of  our  oflBcers?" 

"  But  once.  And  then  I  only  passed  the 
evening  in  his  society.  He  was  kind,  but 
he  has  forgotten  me !" 

"  It  is  enough,  you  love  him.  But  the 
short  time  he  was  with  you  could  scarcely 
have  made  an  impression  so  deep  that  he 
would  mutter  your  name  in  his  delirium. 
And  yet,  the  woimded  man  was  near  your 
residence.  And  he  exclaimed  '  Net — '. 
Tour  name  is  Nettie,  is  it  not  ?" 

"  It  is." 

"  And  what  is  the  name  of  him  you  re- 
fer to  ?" 

"  Captain  Hakrt  Haywaiid  I" 

The  officer  was  visibly  affected.  " '  Nettie.' 
'  Net — .'  '  Nettleton  !'  '  Murdered.'  '  Sis- 
ter.' It  is  very  strange.  Harry  Hayward's 
body  was  not  found,  but  he  was  assassinated. 
.Ah,  I  begin  to  fathom  the  mystery."  He 
murmured  all  this  in  words  not  audible  to 
flie  astonished  Miss  Morton,  and  left  the 
tent  slowly,  as  if  ojDpressed  with  the  weight 
of  a  momentous  thought. 


CHAPTER  rV. 

Nettleton' s  Adventure  in  a  Noose — Some  Im- 
portant Inforrnation. 

The  suriDrise  of  "Walker  was  very  great 
at  the  unexpected  movement  of  Nettleton. 
His  sword  flashed  from  its  scabbard,  and  he 
made  a  half-pass  at  his  breast.  But,  check- 
ing himself,  he  said : 

"  William,  I  can  forgive  j^ou  in  consider- 
ation of  your  grief,  and  I  spare  you,  that 
you  may  assist  in  the  care  of  Miss  Hayward. 
Curse  him  !"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "  I 
would  strike  the  infernal  dog  dead  at  my 
feet,  but  the  act  would  only  place  a  greater 
barrier  between  me  and  my  prize.  Miss  Hay- 
ward,"  he  added  aloud,  "  you  wiil  always 
find  me  ready  and  most  anxious  to  serve 
you." 


"  Miss  Hayward  wiU  not  lack  for  firienda, 
sir!"  replied  AliLamo,  in  a  tone  of  con- 
tempt. 

"  Captain  Walker,  I  shall  place  the  pris- 
oner in  your  charge.  You  will  forward  at 
once."  These  words  were  spoken  by  the 
colonel. 

Walker  bit  his  lip,  and  was  silent.  He 
then  commanded  the  guard  to  forward,  mut- 
tering as  he  did  so  :  ^^ 

"  The  second  most  agreeable  job.  ru 
revenge  myself  upon  him." 

As  the  guard  formed  around  Lieutenant 
Wells,  he  tm-ned  to  Miss  Hayward,  and  said : 

"  Oh  !  dear  lady,  you  have  inadvertently 
confessed  that  you  had  some  regard  for  me. 
This  is  not  a  time  to  speak  of  such  things, 
but  I  will  now  say  to  you,  that  which  has 
never  before  passed  my  lips,  excepting  to 
your  brother.  I  love  you,  with  a  devotion, 
ardent  as  it  is  pure  and  holy ;  and  by  that 
love  I  swear,  and  beg  you  to  believe,  that  I 
have  never  harmed  your  brother !" 

Miss  Hayward  turned  toward  him,  and 
made  a  movement  as  if  to  reach  his  side, 
but  Walker  held  aloft  the  bloody  knife,  which 
met  her  gaze,  and,  with  a  shudder,  she  turn- 
ed to  Alibamo. 

"  Forward  !"  cried  Walker,  and  Edward 
Wells,  the  once  popular  officer  and  general 
favorite,  was  urged  on,  bound  and  guarded, 
charged  with,  and  generally  believed  guilty 
of,  the  foulest  of  crimes.  But  yesterday  he 
was  on  the  road  to  honor  and  fame ;  bow 
he  was  marching  forward  to  a  disgraceful 
death.  The  entire  division  was  soon  in 
motion. 

Nettleton  now  approached  Miss  Hayward, 
and  said : 

"  Miss  Mamie,  I  am  going  to  do  all  for 
you  such  a  darn  sk —  I  mean  such  a  chap 
as  me  car^  do  ;  but,  I'm  feard  that  ain't  much. 
But  you're  going  now  where  there  ain't  no 
danger,  and  if  you  please,  I'm  a  going  to 
stay  behind  and  hunt  for  the  captain." 

"  Oh  !  thank  you,  William,"  sobbed  Miss 
Hayward.  "  How  can  I  ever  repay  you, 
dear  friend  ?" 

"  Don't — don't !"  said  WUliam.  A  chok- 
ing sensation  came  over  him,  and,  unable  to 
sity  more,  he  turned  away,  only  to  be  com- 
forted by  liliss  Sally  Long,  who  placed  her 
hands  upon  his  shoulders,  and  said : 

"  WiUiam,  if  you  will  find  the  captain,  I'll 
Icm  you  dearly  /" 

Nettleton  started  back,  opened  his  eyes 
wide — so  he  did  his  mouth,  as  if  attempting 
to  speak.     His  lower  jaw  wagged  two  or 


12 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


three  times,  but  no  sound  was  heard.  Then 
turning  his  eyes,  he  saw  '.he  gaze  of  all  fixed 
upon  him,  and  started  )ff  suddenly  upon  a 
run,  exclaiming  as  he  did  so : 

"  "Who  ever  thought  it  possible  that  I 
should  ever  be  loved  by  Sally — such  a  darn 
%kuuk — a  sweet  gal,  I  mean !" 

Nettleton  did  not  pause  until  he  had 
overtaken  the  colonel,  of  whom  he  request- 
ed permission  to  remain  and  make  a  more 
thorough  search  for  his  captain. 

"  No,  "William,"  was  the  reply.  "  We  will 
not  be  a  mile  distant  before  the  enemy's 
scouts  will  be  here,  and  you  will  be  taken 
prisoner." 

"  No  fear,  they  don't  notice  such  as  me !" 

"  But  your  uniform  will  be  sufficient." 

"  Oh !  I  always  go  prepared.  I  have 
another  suit  under  this,  one  as  I  got  from 
the  bushwhack  I  laid  out  the  other  night, 
as  he  came  noseing  around  Captain  Hay- 
ward's  tramping  ground,  and  I  shall  put 
that  on  top." 

"  Well,  do  as  you  like,  but  be  careful !" 
.  Nettleton  waited  for  no  other  words,  but 
turning,  proceeded  at  once  to  the  spot  whefe 
Hayward  received  the  fatal  stab.  He  sat 
down  for  a  time,  sUeut  and  mournful,  gazing 
into  the  water.  He  then  commenced  a 
scrutinizing  search.  He  became  satisfied 
that  the  body  could  not  have  floated  down 
the  river,  on  account  of  the  shallowness  of 
the  water.  He  crossed  the  stream,  searched 
upon  the  opposite  bank,  and  there  found 
the  footprints  of  a  niunber  of  men.  He  fol- 
lowed the  tracks,  and  found  that  two  per- 
sons had  descended  into  the  river,  and  out 
again,  near  the  same  spot.  He  took  the 
measurement  of  each  impression  in  the  mud, 
and  then  exclaimed : 

"  I'll  be  darned  if  Lieutenant  Wells'  boot 
made  any  of  them  marks !  I  know  how  it 
is.  Captain  must  have  come  here  last  night 
to  think,  and  some  of  them  dam  rebel 
skunks  come  up  behind  him  suddenly,  and 
killed  him,  and  then  two  of  them  crossed 
over  and  got  his  body,  and  brought  it  back, 
and  that  accomits  for  the  tracks  in  and  out 
of  the  water.  But  what  did  they  want 
with  him  if  he  was  dead?  Perhaps  he 
wasn't  quite  killed,  and  they  took  him  pris- 
oner.    I'll  follow  these  tracks,  anj-Tvay." 

Nettleton  followed  up  the  footmarks  until 
they  merged  into  the  turnpike,  which  was 
so  cut  up  with  travel  as  to  prevent  him 
tracing  them  further.  He  now  returned  to 
the  fatal  spot.  Bending  down  he  examined 
the  earth,  still  red  with  blood.     Something 


appeared  to  interest  him,  and  creeping  on 
his  knees,  he  followed  a  footprint  to  the  edge 
of  the  stream.  Here  was  an  impression  of 
two  boots,  side  by  side,  in  the  mud.  Net- 
tleton gazed  upon  them  for  a  few  moments. 
His  breast  heaved  violently — he  clenched 
his  hands,  and  at  last  said  : 

"  I've  blacked  them  boots.  I  know  'em 
well — there  is  the  impression  of  the  t/ioo 
hearts  in  the  mud,  and  there  ain't  but  one 
pair  of  boots  ill  our  camp  as  has  two  hearts 
made  with  nails  in  the  ball  of  each  boot. 
Oh,  you  dam — " 

Something  caught  the  eye  of  Nettleton 
in  the  water.  He  spmng  in  and  secured 
it.  It  proved  to  be  a  handkerchief,  which 
bore  a  name  upon  the  comer.  He  gazed 
upon  it  a  moment,  and  said  : 

"  The  man  as  had  on  them  boots  stood 
in  them  tracks,  and  washed  himself  iiji  that 
river.  He  wiped  up«n  this  hankcrchcr  and 
then  threw  it  into  the  water.  Folks  as 
washes  the  evidence  of  miirder  off  their 
hands,  don't  wash  in  the  river,  throw  away 
the  wiper,  and  then  take  a  tm  pot  of  bloody 
water  to — " 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  doing  here  ?" 

Nettleton  turned  to  behold  a  party  of  six 
horsemen  who  had  suddenly  approached 
him.  In  his  anxiety  he  had  forgotten  to 
change  his  clothing — that  is,  to  cover  his 
blue  uniform  -nith  the  rough  gray  suit  he 
wore  underneath. 

"  So,  you  are  a  Yankee  soldier,"  exclaimed 
one  of  the  party. 

"  No  I  ain't ;  Tm  a  dam  skunk." 

This  reply,  and  the  ungainly  appearance 
of  Nettleton,  caused  a  laugh  throughout  the . 
entire  party. 

"  Tou  are  not  a  Yankee  soldier  ?  Then 
what  ai-e  you  doing  with  that  unifomi  ?" 

Nettleton  looked  at  his  dress,  and  for  the 
first  time  became  conscious  that  he  had  not 
changed  it.     He,  however,  instantly  replied : 

"  I  am  a  spy  for  the  General." 

"  What  General  ?" 

"  General  Price,  to  be  sure." 

This  created  another  fit  of  merriment. 

"  Just  as  if  the  likes  of  you  would  be 
employed  as  a  spy !  Why,  you  don't  know 
enough  to  last  you  half  a  mile." 

"  That's  just  the  reason  why  I  am  a  spy. 
I  am  such  a  dam  skunk  no  one  pays  any 
attention  to  me." 

"  Have  you  been  m  the  Yankee  camp  here  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Have  you  a  Confederate  uniform  under 
that  blue  ?" 


NETTLETON  IN  THE  REBEL  CAMP. 


18 


"  Yes,"  replied  Nettleton,  throwing  off 
his  coat  and  exposmg  the  gray. 

"  To  what  company  and  regiment  do  you 
belong  ?" 

"  No  company.    I  go  it  on  my  own  hook." 

"  You  know^  General  Price  ?" 

"  Yes,  very  well." 

"  Have  you  ever  been  in  his  camp  ?" 

"  Often." 

"  Describe  him." 

Nettleton  had,  on  one  occasion,  accompa- 
nied a  party  of  disguised  Union  officers  into 
the  very  camp  of  Price,  while  that  General 
held  possession  of  the  upper  Osage.  One 
of  the  officers  being  detected  and  wounded, 
was  ■  borne  along  with  the  retreating  rebel 
army  jfrom  the  Osage  to  Springfield,  and 
Nettleton  had  followed  on  for  the  purpose 
of  rendering  assistance  if  possible.  His  ap- 
parent stupidity  prevented  suspicion,  and  he 
had  been  one  of  the  leading  spirits  in  a  res- 
cue which  afterward  occurred.  He  was,  in 
consequence,  not  only  known  to  General 
Price  himself,  but  to  a  large  number  of  his 
officers  and  men,  and  hence  it  was  very  de- 
sirable for  him  to  avoid  the  main  army. 
He  supposed  that  he  could  deceive  his  cap- 
tors, or  effect  his  escape.  And  the  shadowy 
thought  that  Captain  Hayward  might  have 
been  seized  and  borne  toward  the  rebel 
quarters  at  once  decided  his  course.  He 
gave  an  accurate  description  of  Piice. 

"  Good  !"  answered  one  of  the  party,  "  it 
is  evident  you  are  a  spy.  I  find  you  on  the 
spot  the  Yankees  have  just  left.  You  have 
tJieir  uniform  on  and  ours  under  it.  So  far 
that  looks  well.  You  know  and  have  per- 
fectly described  our  General.  That  renders 
it  certain  you  have  seen  him.  Now,  one  of 
two  things  is  certain :  you  are  a  Yankee  spy, 
and  have  been  in  our  camps  with  that  gray 
uniform  outside,  and  then  communicated 
your  information  to  your  General,  or  you 
are  a  Confederate  spy,  who,  having  just  been 
in  the  Yankee  camp,  must  have  important 
information  for  our  General.  In  either  case 
we  shall  conduct  you  to  him.  If  you  are 
his  man,  then  all  will  be  right  If  you  are 
not,  then  you  will  be  hung  withm  half  an 
hour  after  your  arrival.     You  understand  ?" 

"  I  first  thought  of  going  on  to  Spring- 
field, but  I  think  I  have  all  the  information 
necessary,  and  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to 
return.  I  halted  here  a  moment  to  change 
my  dress;  and  to  look  for  a  Yankee  officer 
who  was  supposed  to  be  killed  last  night. 
But  I  think  he  was  only  badly  wounded, 
and  may  yet  be  found  alive  in  the  taU  grass. 


Look  for  him."  These  words  were  spoken 
by  Nettleton  in  an  apparently  cheerful  tone. 

"  Oh  !  you  mean  the  captain  who  was 
stabbed  last  night." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  do  you  know  any  thing  of 
him  ?" 

"  You  appear  especially  anxious,  Mr. 
What's-your-name  ?" 

"  I  am  anxious,"  replied  Nettleton,  fiercely. 
"  He  insulted  me,  and  I  would  be  revenged." 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself  He'll  catch  it 
soon  enough.  He  was  not  killed,  but  was 
taken  out  of  the  water  by  us." 

"  Who  struck  the  blow  ?"  yelled  Nettle- 
ton. 

"  No  one  of  our  party.  We  were  con- 
cealed upon  the  opposite  bank.  We  could 
not  see  the  murderer  strike,  for  it  was  too 
dark  ;  but  we  saw  the  body  thrown  in  the 
stream,  and  saw  the  stabber  wash  himself 
in  the  river.  We  would  have  fired  upon 
him,  but  were  afraid  of  rousing  the  Yanks. 
We  waited  until  he  left  the  body,  after 
throwing  it  into  the  stream,  and  then  we 
recovered  it.  The  man  was  still  alive.  He 
had  only  fainted  from  loss  of  blood.  We 
dressed  his  wound  as  well  as  we  could,  and 
then  conveyed  him  to  a  house  the  other  side 
of  the  pike.  He  will  recover ;  but  Colonel 
Price  has  an  especial  spite  against  him.  He 
met  him  once  at  Springfield.  So,  wTien  he 
recovers  he  will  be  hung." 

"  Where  is  he  now  ?"  asked  Nettleton. 

"  At  a  little  house  not  fifty  rods  from 
here,  just  the  other  side  of  the  pil^e." 

Without  a  word,  Nettleton  bounded  like 
a  deer  in  the  direction  the  Federal  forces 
had  taken.  But  a  dozen  shots  were  fired 
after  him,  and  he  fell.  He  was  soon  se- 
cured, when  it  was  ascertained  that  one 
bullet  had  cut  the  neck  badly,  and  another 
had  struck  the  ankle,  although  it  had  not 
broken  the  bone.  He  was  still  able  to 
walk,  and,  after  being  bound,  he  was  dragged 
forward  toward  Cassville. 

A  march  of  forty  miles  was  almost  to« 
much  even  for  the  tough  Nettleton,  more 
especially  as  he  had  received  a  severe  shot 
in  the  ankle ;  but  he  bore  up  firmly,  and 
at  last  arrived  at  the  outskirts  of  the  rebel 
camp.  He  had  become  very  lame,  and 
rolled  about  like  a  ship  in  a  heavy  sea. 
As  he  entered  the  camp,  many  were  the 
jeers  and  taunts  which  hailed  this  specimen 
of  the  Yankee  soldier.  Nettleton  made  no 
reply,  although  his  coimt^nance  bespoke  his 
contempt 

He  was  now  near  the  quarters  of  Price. 


14 


THE  PRISONER  OP  THE  SIILL. 


"  By  thunder  1"  yelled  one  of  the  Confed- 
erate soldiers,  "  that  is  the  very  fellow  who 
fooled  us  at  Springfield.  Hang  him  !  Hang 
him!" 

,  An  explanation  was  soon  made,  and  Net- 
tleton's  fate  appeared  certain,  as  a  "  drum- 
head "  court-martial  had  already  been  con- 
vened. Sentence  was  soon  given  —  the 
Yankee  spy  was  to  be  hung  upon  the  spot ! 

A  rough  scaflFolding  was  formed,  imder  a 
large  tree,  and  a  rope,  with  the  fatal  noose 
attached,  thrown  over  a  limb.  Nettleton 
ascended  the  platform  in  silence,  although 
his  frame  trembled. 

"  I  never  saw  a  Yankee  yet  that  did  not 
fear  to  die,"  exclaimed  one  of  the  bysUmders. 

"  Then  you  see  one  now,  you  dam  skunk," 
replied  Nettleton. 

"  Why  do  you  tremble,  then  ?"  asked  the 
Confederate. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  the  captain,  and  of 
his  poor  sister  '  Mamie.'  " 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  I  This  booby  is  in  love. 
A  romantic  spy.  And  the  idol  of  his  pas- 
sion is  called  '  Mamie  !'  " 

"  You  lie,  you  dog  1"  yelled  Nettleton. 
"  I  only—" 

"  What  is  all  this  ?"  asked  a  stately-look- 
ing officer,  who  had  just  approached,  and 
before  whom  all  the  rest  fell  back. 

"  A  spy,  General,"  was  the  response. 

"  Why  was  he  not  brought  to  my  quar- 
ters?" 

"  Because  Raines  ordered  a  drumhead 
court-martial." 

"  Release  the  man  imtil  I  have  conversed 
with  him." 

Nettleton  was  released,  and,  as  he  de- 
scended from  the  scaffolding,  he  was  recog- 
nized by  General  Price. 

"  We  have  met  before  ?"  asked  Price. 

"  Yes,  General,  we  have,"  was  the  prompt 
reply  of  Nettleton. 

"  What  were  you  doing  in  my  camp  the 
first  time  we  met  ?" 

"  Serving  my  captain,  whom  I  love." 

"  Good  !    What  are  you  doing  here  now  ?" 

"  That  will  require  considerable  explana- 
tion," added  Nettleton. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Price. 

"  Well,  General,  some  dam  skunk  mur- 
dered my  captain,  and  when  our  troops  left 
Grand  Prairie,  on  their  retum  to  Springfield, 
I  remained  behind  to  search  for  his  body. 
I  am  no  spy." 

"  But  you  said  you  were  a  spy,  serving 
General  Price,"  replied  one  of  the  soldiers 
who  had  brought  Nettleton  to  the  rebel  camp. 


"  How  can  you  explain  this  ?"  asked 
Price. 

"  Well,  ye  see,  General,  SDss  Sally — no, 
I  mean  Miss  Mamie — that's  the  captain's 
sister — will  break  her  poor  heart  and  die 
of  grief  if  she  can't  leara  something  about 
her  brother.  Them  dam  skunks  as  arrested 
me  told  me  that  Captain  Uayward  was  not 
killed.  Besides  this,  as  nice  a  dam  sk —  I 
mean  as  good  a  man  as  ever  lived,  and  one 
who  loves  Miss  Sally — no — that  Miss  Sally 
keeps  running  in  my  head — one  as  loves 
Miss  Mamie,  is  accused  of  murdering  the 
captain.  But  I  know  better,  for  I  found 
proof  enough  to  convict  the  right  one.  I 
wanted  to  tell  Mamie  that  Sally — dam  Sal- 
ly— that  her  brother  was  Twt  dead,  and  to 
clear  Lieutenant  Wells  and  convict  the  one 
as  did  the  deed.  So  I  told  them  sneaks  as 
how  I  xjcos  a  spy,  in  hopes  they'd  let  me 
alone." 

"  Would  you  give  any  information  you 
may  have  gleaned  here,  if  I  should  set  you 
free  ?" 

"  I  ain't  no  such  dam  skunk,  GeneraL 
Honor  is  honor  bright  with  me." 

"  What  have  you  seen  here  ?" 

"  A  lot  of  the  damdest  sapheads  I  ever 
metf." 

"  If  I  should  set  you  free,  will  you  fight 
against  me  ?" 

"  Like  the  devil,  the  first  time  we  meet 
in  fair  play." 

"  Why  do  you  "wear  that  gray  suit  under 
your  uniform  ?" 

"  Because  captain's  always  getting  himself 
into  some  scrape,  and  I  have  to  hunt  him 
up.  Sometimes  I  have  to  go  among  the 
Johnnies  to  do  it,  and  then  the  blue  ain't 
healthy." 

"  Will  you  ever  act  as  spy  upon  me  if  I 
let  you  go  ?" 

"  Not  unless  capt'n  does.  But  Tm  his 
body-guard,  and  shall  go  everywhere  he 
does,  if  I  can" 

"  What  is  your  name  ?" 

"  William  Nettleton." 

"Well,  William,  I  think  we  shaU  be 
obliged  to  hang  you." 

"  All  right.  General,"  answered  Nettleton, 
stepping  upon  the  scaffolding  again.  "  And 
tliem  dam  sneaks  shan't  say  they  never 
see'd  a  Yankee  Klie  bravely.  But,  Grcneral, 
let  me  ask  of  you  one  favor.  You  dont 
want  to  see  a  good  fellow  shot  for  what  he 
didn't  do,  and  a  murderer  go  clear,  do  you?" 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  Then  all  I  ask  is,  that  you  send  this 


THE  TESTIMONY. 


16 


handkerchief  to  Colonel  Mann,  and  tell  him 
the  murderer  didn't  wash  in  a  basin  in  his 
tent,  but  m  the  river,  and  then  threw  this 
vriper  away ;  and  that  the  guilty  one  has 
two  hearts,  made  with  nails,  on  the  sole  of 
each  boot.  And  tell  Sally — no,  Mamie — 
that  the  captam  is — Lieutenant  Wells — and 
"Walker — the  skunk,  when  I'm  dead — that 
Sally — no,  capt'n,  won't  think  of  poor  Net- 
tieton — and — " 

"  Oh  stop  I  stop !  William,  I  can  never 
recollect  all  this.  You  had  better  go  your- 
self and  attend  to  this  matter." 

"  What,  General  ?  Do  you  mean  it  ?" 
cried  William,  as  he  sprung  from  the  scaf- 
fold and  gazed  earnestly  at  Price. 

"  On  one  condition  I  will  permit  you  to 
go." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?" 

"  That  as  soon  as  you  have  given  your 
evidence  in  the  court-martial  which  will 
probably  be  ordered,  you  will  return  at 
once  and  be  hurig." 

"  I'll  do  if;  I'm  a  loafer  if  I  don't" 

"  You  swear  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  by  the  great  jumping  jingo,  and 
Sally  Long's  tearful  eyes  !" 

"  The  guard  will  see  this  man  safely  be- 
yond our  lines,"  said  Price,  speaking  to  one 
of  his  officers,  "  and  furnish  him  a  pass  and 
a  horse.  Let  one  of  our  men  accompany 
him  near  to  the  Federal  lines,  and  bring 
back  the  animal  whioi  William  will  ride." 

Nettleton  rushed  forward,  and  grasping 
the  hand  of  Price,  shook  it  violently,  and 
then  exclaimed,  as  he  took  his  leave : 

"  General  Price,  you  ain't  such  a  dam 
sneak  as  I  thought  you  was !" 


CHAPTER  V. 
TTie  Court-martial  and  the  Hostage. 

The  division  which  had  been  encamped 
on  Grand  Prairie  reached  Springfield  in 
safety,  and  formed  their  temporary  camp  in 
the  field,  back  of  the  brick  school-house, 
which  stands  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to 
the  west  of  the  new  court-house. 

The  first  order  issued  to  the  officers  of 
the  battalion  of  Benton  Cadets,  fhe  Thirty- 
fifth  and  Thirty-seventh  Illinois,  was  to 
assemble  at  a  given  time,  to  act  upon  a 
oourt-martial,  at  the  quarters  of  Major  D — , 
Judge-Advocate,  to  try  the  case  of  Lieuten- 
ant Edward  Wells,  charged  with  willful 
murder  of  Harry  Hayward,  a  captain  in  the 


service  of  the  United  States  of  America,  and 
attached  to  the  army  of  the  Mississippi,  now 
under  command  of  Major-General  Hunter. 

It  was  a  sad  day  !  Lieutenant  Wells  was 
a  favorite  with  both  officers  and  men  of  hi£ 
command.  He  always  had  been  mild  as  a 
female,  kind  and  benevolent — sacrificing  his 
own  comfort  for  the  good  of  the  privates  in 
his  battalion.  True,  some  said  that  Wells 
would  not  fight  bravely — that  he  ought  to 
have  been  created  a  woman  ;  but  everybody 
gave  him  credit  for  being  the  kindest  of  the 
kind.  When  first  accused,  there  arose  a 
very  bitter  feeling  against  him.  Captain 
Hayward  also  was  a  great  favorite  with  the 
men.  He  was  a  stem  but  kind  soldier 
When  the  news  of  his  brutal  murder  came 
to  the  knowledge  of  his  "  boys,"  their  first 
cry  was  "  revenge,"  and  they  natiu-ally  sought 
some  one  on  whom  to  wreak  their  ven- 
geance. At  first  Lieutenant  Wells  narrowly 
escaped  a  summaiy  fate,  more  especially  as 
it  was  whispered  about  camp  that  Wells  had 
become  a  suitor  for  the  hand  of  the  fair 
Mamie  Hayward,  had  been  rejected  by  her, 
and  spmTied  by  the  captain.  But  in  a  short 
time  it  was  given  out  that  Mamie  had  con- 
fessed her  affection  for  Wells,  and  that  Cap- 
tain Hayward  had  remarked  in  the  presence 
of  others,  that  he  deemed  Wells  an  honor- 
able man,  and  would  gladly  favor  his  suit. 
This  turned  the  tide  of  feeling  in  favor  of 
the  Ueutenant,  and  when  the  court-martial 
was  convened,  nothing  but  a  consciousness 
of  a  soldier's  duty  prevented  an  open  revolt, 
or  at  least  a  most  decided  and  forcible  ex- 
pression of  feeling.  But,  trusting  to  the 
judgment  of  the  officers  forming  the  cotut, 
the  soldiers  decided  to  await  the  result. 

Have  our  readers  ever  witnessed  a  trial 
by  court-martial?  It  is  not  like  the  ordi- 
nary court  of  justice.  First,  the  charge  is 
read,  as  thus : 

"  Lieutenant  Edward  Wells,  ®f  Company 

H,  Battalion  of  B C ,  is  charged 

with  the  willful  murder  of  Harry  Hayward, 
a  captain  in  the  U.  S.  army. 

"2d. — Specification. — 1st.  In  this,  that 
said  Lieutenant  Edward  Wells,  did,  on  the 
night  of  the  seventh  day  of  November,  1861, 
assassinate  and  murder  said,"  etc. 

Following  this,  in  any  case  of  the  kind, 
would  be  found  a  hst  of "  specifications," 
setting  forth  in  detail,  all  the  chief  events 
connected  with  the  crime. 

The  prisoner  was  brought  to  the  tent  of 

Major  D to  answer  to  the  charge.    He 

was  VMy  pale,  yet  perfectly  composed ;  and 


16 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


when  the  question  was  asked,  the  ready  and 
firm  response  was : 

"  Not  Guilty  !" 

The  Judge- Advocate,  a  noble-hearted  but 
jast  man,  informed  the  prisoner  that  he  was 
to  act,  not  only  as  "  prosecuting  counsel," 
but  as  "  counsel "  for  the  prisoner,  and  that 
he  (the  Judge- Advocate)  must  give  the  pris- 
oner the  benefit  of  any  doubt  that  might 
arise  in  his  favor. 

To  those  of  our  readers  not  familiar  with 
thdjj)iodns  operandi  of  a  court-martial,  we 
woi^l  ^ye  the  following  information  for 
their  b.e'tfefit : 
j^lic  door^  of  the  court  are  closed  to  all 

tslders,  *^^^pi1soner  makes  his  plea,  and 

'{    -SP^K^^®^^^  ^^'^  brought  foi^ward 

^piiHWo;' ,i)tit  no  cross-examination  is 

Ted."  If  a  question  is  to  be  asked  by 

©f  the  ^ELgcrs  sitting  ^upon  the  court,  it 

^^e;jrrahced 'to  wljfiug,  and  silently 

l9_c,d' to  the  Judge- Advocate.     If  he  sees 

x^'put  the  question,  it  is  done ;  if  not,  it 
'titrown  aside.  -,- 

Wc  will  now  proceed  to  a  brief  summary 
of  the  trial. 

"  Lieutenant  Edward  Wells,  you  are 
charged  ^^^th  the  willflil  murder  of  Harry 
Hayward,  a  captain  in  the  United  State's 
service.  What  is  your  plea.  Guilty,  or  not 
guilty  f 

"  Not  guilty !"  was  the  decided  response. 

••  Let  the  first  witness  be  called,  George 
Swasey,  colored." 

The  person  familiarly  known  as  "  Swasey's 
nigger  "  took  the  stand.  When  brought  for- 
ward, he  glanced  aroimd  as  if  fearful  of 
something,  and  then  asked : 

"  Is  Massa  William  Nettletum  where  he 
can  hear  dis  chile  tell  de  trufF?" 

"  You  have  nothing  to  fear  from  any  per- 
son, if  you  do  speak  the  truth,  and  ail  the 
truth,"  replied  Major  D. 

"  Well  den,  de  fact  am  dis.  I  went  to 
see  my  gal.  When  I  cum  back,  I  met  de 
rebs.  I  hid  behind  a  log.  I  see'd  some 
one  stick  a  knife  in  massa  cap'n,  and  I 
heard  him  say : 

" '  Oh  !  Nettletum,  you  kill  me  1'  " 

All  questions  were  answered  in  the  same 
spirit,  and  it  became  evident  that  the  negro 
believed  Nettleton  the  real  murderer. 

The  next  witness  brought  upon  the  stand 
was  Alibamo  Hinton.  She  swore  that  Net- 
tleton's  tent  was  next  to  the  one  she  occu- 
pied— that  he  was  in  attendance  upon  her 
and  3Iiss  Hayward,  by  permission  of  Cap- 
tain Hayward,  and  that  Nettleton  had  twt 


been  out  of  her  presence  that  night.  In  the 
first  part  of  the  evening,  Nettleton  had  re- 
mained near  her  door ;  in  the  latter  part,  he 
had  missed  his  captain,  and  had  prostrated 
himself  on  a  rug  near  the  tent  entrance. 
She  had  seen  him  there  all  night,  as  she  had 
not  slept  at  all." 

Miss  Hayward  was  too  much  overcome 
to  appear  as  a  witness,  and  was  excused. 

The  next  witness  was  Captain  Hugk 
Walker. 

The  feeling  of  the  soldiers,  to  learn  the 
result  of  the  trial,  was  intense,  and  by  the 
time  Captain  Walker  was  called  to  the  stand, 
some  twenty  or  thirty  had  crept  to  the  edge 
of  the  tent,  and  endeavored  to  conceal  them- 
selves in  the  tall  grass  outside,  to  catch  the 
proceedings.  But  they  were  discovered  by 
Walker,  who  demanded  that  they  should  be 
removed.  This  was  done,  and  a  guard 
placed  outside. 

Captain  Walker's  oath  was  as  follows : 

"  On  the  night  of  the  seventh  of  Novem- 
ber, I  followed  Captain  Hajn\ard  from  hia 
tent.  It  was  at  the  time  gradually  becom- 
ing dark.  My  motive  in  doing  so  I  will 
explain.  As  soon  as  it  began  to  be  rumored 
that  we  were  to  meet  Price,  I  observed  a 
change  in  the  conduct  of  Captain  Haj'ward. 
He  had  ever  been  the  center  of  attraction. 
His  tent  "w^as  the  '  head-quarters '  of  '  our 
circle,'  drawn  thither  by  the  natural  gayety 
of  the  captain,  and  the  presence  there  of 
ladies.  But  this  feeling  appeared  to  forsake 
him,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion  he 
denounced  the  war  as  inhuman.  Pardon.- 
me ;  I  would  not  speak  against  the  dead, 
but  I  doubted  the  loyalty  of  the  man,  and 
not  his  courage,  and  this  it  was  which 
induced  me  to  follow  him. 

"I  halted  beneath  a  large  tree,  which 
stood  near  the  spot  where  the  murder  evi- 
dently was  committed.  I  saw  the  captain 
seat  himself  upon  the  bank.  At  this  time 
it  was  quite  dark,  but  I  saw  a  shadow  ap- 
proaching. It  passed  near  me,  but  I  failed 
to  discover  who  it  was.  I  first  thought  it 
might  be  William  Nettleton  following  %dfl 
master.  I  listened  attentively,  however,  as 
the  extreme  caution  of  the  iutruder  attracted 
my  attention.  In  an  instant  I  heard  a 
groan,  a  heavy  fall,  and  a  voice  exclaim : 
'  Oh,  William,  where  are  you  ?'  Nettleton, 
I  am  murdered.     Wells  is  the  assassin  /'  " 

A  shudder  ran  through  the  court.     Major 

D dropped  his  head  upon  his  hand  and 

was  silent.  The  officers  whispered  together. 
At  last,  a  written  question  was  handed  to 


THE  VERDICT. 


n 


the  Judge- Advocate,  which  was  propiptly 
asked : 

"  Captain  Walker,  why  did  you  not  give 
the  alarm,  or  arrest  the  murderer  yourself?" 

"  Sir,"  was  the  prompt  reply,  "  the  sequel 
will  show.  It  was  dark ;  I  could  not  dis- 
tinguish the  features  of  any  person  two 
yards  distant.  I  feared  he  might  escape  if 
lie  should  discover  me.  I  therefore  followed 
the  murderer  cautiously,  and  he  entered  the 
tent  of  Lieutenant  Wells.  He  did  not 
strike  a  light,  but  I  listened,  and  heard  him 
washing  himself  I  kept  close  watch  upon 
him  until  morning,  to  make  sure  I  was  not 
accusing  an  innocent  man.  No  one  entered 
or  left  the  tent.  The  one  who  washed  his 
hands,  and  left  the  bloody  water,  was  Lieu- 
tenant Edward  Wells." 

This  evidence  was  conclusive.  But  no 
reason  could  be  assigned  for  the  murder, 
unless  it  was  that  Miss  Hayward  had  been 
heard  to  say  that  she  never  should  mairy 
and  leave  her  brother  so  long  as  he  lived, 
and  it-^had  now  become  well  known  that 
Wells  was  a  suitor  for  her  hand.  Still,  he 
was  a  fiivorite  with  the  captain,  and  even 
on  the  day  of  his  death  Hayward  had  been 
heard  to  say  that  he  believed  Wells  a  man 
of  honor,  whose  suit  he  would  favor.  The 
only  conclusion  which  could  be  arrived  at 
was,  that  Wells  believed  the  love  of  a  sister 
was  too  strong  to  give  immediate  place  to 
the  love  of  a  wife,  and  he  felt  that,  the  bro- 
ther once  removed,  he  alone  would  become 
the  object  of  Miss  Hayward's  aflfectiou.  This, 
though  but  a  flimsy  pretext  for  so  awful  a 
crime,  was  all  that  any  one  could  offer  in 
the  way  of  a  surmise. 

The  trial  was  over.  But  one  decision 
could  be  given.  It  soon  was  rumored  about 
camp  that  sentence  had  been  passed,  and 
that  at  four  o'clock  the  next  day  it  would 
be  read  to  the  prisoner,  in  presence  of  the 
whole  division. 

The  night  was  wearing  oil  A  form, 
closely  enveloped,  approached  the  tent  of 
the  commanding  General.  It  proved  to  be 
the  lady  Alibamo. 

"  What  is  the  will  of  our  '  daughter  of 
the  army  ?'  "  asked  the  General,  kindly. 

"  It  is  that  I  may  visit  Lieutenant  Wells, 
and  bring  him  to  my  tent.  I  desire  that 
an  inter\dew  should  take  place  between 
Miss  Hayward  and  the  doomed  man." 

The  General  seated  himself  at  his  table, 
and  penned  a  few  words,  which  he  handed 
to  Mrs.  Hinton.  She  glanced  at  the  con- 
tents, and  then  falling  at  the  feet  of  that 

9  2 


officer,  she  seized  his  hand,  and  kissing  it, 
sobbingly  exclaimed  : 

"  What !  without  his  chains  ?  God  bless 
you  1     God  bless — " 

"  There,  there  !  Go  !  go  !  Don't  make 
me  weep,  or  I  won't  forgive  you,"  returned 
the  veteran  warrior,  as  he  turned  away. 

Alibamo  left  his  tent,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes entered  her  own,  ua  company  with 
Lieutenant  Wells,  now  free  from  aU  appa- 
rent restraint. 

When  Wells  entered  the  tent.  Miss  Hay- 
ward was  kneeling  by  the  side  of  her  camp 
cot,  her  face  buried  in  the  folds  of  its  cov- 
erings. For  several  moments  not  a  word 
was  spoken,  and,  as  Wells  gazed  upon  the 
stricken  sister,  he  trembled  violently,  while 
a  groan  of  intense  anguish  escaped  him. 

Alibamo  advanced,  and  gently  touching 
her  companion,  said : 

"  Mamie,  my  darling,  here  is  our  friend, 
Lieutenant  Wells." 

Mss  Hayward  did  not  raise  her  head,  but 
reached  forth  her  hand  toward  Wells,  whiclij, 
quickly  kneeling  by  her  side,  he  took,  and 
pressed  to  his  lips. 

"  Oh,  heaven  bless  you !"  he  moaned. 
"  You  do  not  believe  me  capable  of  the 
di-eadful  crime  with  which  I  am  charged  ?" 

Miss  Hayward  tried  to  speak,  but  con- 
vulsive sobis  choked  her  utterance. 

"  No,  my  ever  kind  and  dear  friend,"  re- 
plied Alibamo,  "  she  does  not  believe  you 
guilty.  Nor  am  I  satisfied  that  Captain 
Hayward  has  been  killed.  I  am  under  the 
impression  that  he  was  wounded  and  taken 
prisoner  by  some  rebels,  who  were  lurking 
near  our  camp." 

"  You  liope  for  the  best,  and  so  do  I ;  but 
have  you  any  grounds  for 'the  formation  of 
such  an  opinion  ?"  asked  Wells. 

"  Yes,  and  to  me  the  best  of  evidence. 
William  Nettleton  went  in  search  of  the 
captain.  If  he  was  killed,  William  would 
have  found  his  body  before  this,  and  return- 
ed to  us  with  the  intelligence.  His  contm- 
ued  absence  convinces  me  that  the  captain 
is  still  alive,  and  that  his  faithful  friend  Net- 
tleton is  at  this  moment  following  him.  It 
is  this  hope  which  gives  me  fresh  courage, 
and  I  believe  a  few  days  will  see  j'ou  free, 
and  your  name  as  untarnished  as  it  should 
be.  I  wished  to  tell  you  this,  and  I  also 
wished  Miss  Hayward  to^  express  to  you 
personally,  her  confidence  ia  your  innocence ; 
Sence,  I  brought  you  here.  You  may  leave 
us  now,  as  my  poor  friend  is  too  much  agi- 
tated to  converse." 


18 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  lirCLL. 


"Wells  was  about  to  depart  in  silence,  but 
Miss  HayTvard  for  the  first  time  raised  her 
face,  and  her  tearfiil  eyes  met  his  own.  He 
sprung  forward,  and  kneeling  before  her, 
pressed  his  lips  to  her  white  forehead,  and 
said : 

"  That  look  is  worth  to  me  years  of  hap- 
piness. But,  you  can  read  my  heart  now. 
"When  I  am  proved  innocent,  then  I  will 
speak  the  words  which  must  not,  till  then, 
pass  my  lips.     God  bless  you  !" 

He  arose  to  depart,  but  was  met  by  Cap- 
tain Walker,  who  had  just  entered  the  tent. 
Walker  cast  a  rapid  glance  around  him, 
and  placing  his  finger  upon  his  lips,  enjoined 
silence  upon  all.     Wells  stood,  with  arms 
folded,  sternly  and  suspiciously  gazing  upon 
him,  while  Alibamo  asked  : 
"  What  are  your  wishes,  sir  ?" 
"  To  serve  you  and  your  friend,"  was  the 
reply,  spoken  ia  a  low  voice,  and  with  ap- 
parent hesitation. 

"  It  must  be  an  important  service  wliich 
gould  render  pardonable  the  fact,  sir,  of 
you  having,  unannounced,  and  so  rudely, 
iatruded  upon  our  privacy,"  said  Mrs.  Hin- 
ton. 

"  It  is  an  important  service.     No  less  than 

the  rescue  of will  you  be  seated  ?" 

The  parties  seated  themselves  in  silence, 
when  Walker  continued  : 

"  You  must  pardon  me  if  I  speak  plainly, 
and  directly  to  the  point.     It  is  necessary 
that  I  should  be  brief." 
"  Proceed,  sir." 

"  Miss  Hayward,"  continued  Walker,  turn- 
ing toward  the  lady,  "  I  must  give  a  few 
words  of  explanation  to  you.  I  did  love — do 
love  you  now.  You  need  not  shrink  from  me. 
You  will,  upon  hearing  my  words,  under- 
stand me  better.  No  man  loves  without 
hope,  until  there  arises  between  him  and 
the  one  beloved  some  impassable  barrier. 
The  banier  which  arose  to  blast  my  hopes 
was,  your  previous  love,  and  the  unfortu- 
nate circumstance  which  has  made  me  an 
unwilling  witness  against  one  to  whom,  as 
I  think,  your  heart  still  clings." 

"  You  will  please  be  brief  in  comment, 
and  come  as  quickly  as  possible  to  the  point 
in  question,"  replied  Mrs.  Hinton,  as  she  ob- 
served the  agitation  of  Miss  Hayward. 

"  I  come  to  the  point  now,  I  know  Miss 
Hayward  is  very  unliappy,  and  I  would  not 
add  to  it.     I  would  save  her  lover." 

"  To  whom  do  you  refer  ?"  asked  Wells, 
coldly. 

"  To  you,  sir,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 


"  I  can  not  claim  the  title  you  honor  me 
with,  in  connection  with  that  lady.  Besides, 
she  might  not  thank  you  for  such  a  service." 
"  Oh,  yes !  yes !"  eagerly  replied  Miss 
Hayward,  as  she  gazed  upon  the  speaker. 
"  Stay  one  moment.  Miss  Hayward,"  an- 
swered Wells.  "  Let  us  first  learn  in  what 
manner  my  deliverance  can  be  efiected. 
Captain  Walker,  you  can  proceed." 

"  You  speak  very  coldly,  Lieutenant  Wells, 
to  one  who  comes  to  offer  you  service.  But, 
before  I  proceed,  I  must  exact  a  promise, 
that  if  my  proposition  is  not  accepted,  those 
to  whom  my  words  are  addressed  will  make 
no  exposure  of  the  same." 

There  was  a  nod  of  assent,  and  Walker 
proceeded : 

"  I  will  not  deny  the  fact  that  solicitude 
for  Miss  Hayward  impels  the  act.  But  of 
this  no  more.  Lieutenant  Wells,  you  are 
unboimd  and  unwatched.  Place  your  sash 
across  your  breast,  as  worn  by  the  oflicer 
of  the  day.  I  will  give  you  the  counter- 
sign, and  thus  you  wUl  be  enabled  to  pass 
the  pickets,  and  make  good  your  escape. 
You  can  secure  a  safe  retreat,  and,  after  the 
excitement  of  the  mur —  of  tliis  unfortunate 
affair — has  died  away.  Miss  Hayward  can 
be  apprised  of  your  place  of  concealment, 
and  take  such  action  in  the  case  as  her 
judgment  or  heart  may  dictate." 

A  deathlike  silence  reigned  for  a  moment, 
during  which  rapid  glances  were  exchanged 
between  the  friends.  At  length  WeUs 
asked  : 

"  Captain  Walker,  would  not  an  escape 
imply,  upon  my  part,  an  acknowledgment 
of  the  crime  of  which  I  am  accused  ?" 

"  It  might,  in  the  estimation  of  many. 
But,  you  are  generally  believed  guilty.  What 
mattei-s  it  what  your  actions  imply  to  tJiem  f 
Your  friends  here,  who  have  ab-eady  made 
up  their  minds,  will  merely  look  upon  it  as 
a  desire  upon  your  part  to  escape  a  certain, 
an  unmerited,  and  a  dishonorable  death." 

"  And  you  will  assist  my  flight  ?" 

"  I  will." 

"  And  will  you  afterward  convey  Miss 
Hayward  to  me  if  she  will  come  ?" 

-"  With  pleasure  ;  you  but  anticipate  my 
intended  services." 

Another  rapid  and  significant  glance 
passed  between  JMrs.  Hinton  and  Wells, 
which  was  not  observed  by  Walker. 

"  One  thing  more.  Walker :  do  you  be- 
lieve me  guilty  of  murder  ?" 

»  H'm— I  didr 

"  And  turn .'" 


THE  GUNPOWDER  PLOT. 


19 


"  I  may  have  been  mistaken.  But,  be 
that  as  it  may,  I  will  assist  your  flight." 

"  Are  you  ready  ?"  asked  Wells,  rising. 

"  I  wish  you  to  return  to  your  cell,  and 
when  all  is  ready,  say  two  or  three  o'clock, 
I  will  come  for  you." 

"  But  I  will  not  go  1"  was  the  firm  reply. 

Walker  perceived  his  mistake,  and  quickly 
added: 

"  As  you  please,  sir."  And  turning,  he 
was  about  to  leave  the  tent,  when  he  was 
confronted  by  the  "  officer  of  the  day." 

"  Captain  Walker,"  he  said,  sternly,  "  you 
feel  an  especial  interest  in  Lieutenant  Wells. 
I  did  not  suppose  so,  but  learned  the  fact 
from  your  conversation.  I  am  glad  you  do 
feel  so  great  a  friendship  for  him.  You 
shall  have  opportunity  to  make  it  manifest. 
You  shall  become  his  Pythias !" 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?" 

"  This  :  that  the  sentence  of  Lieutenant 
Wells  will  be  read  to-morrow  afternoon  at 
four  o'clock.  In  the  mean  time,  you,  as 
his  dear  friend,  do  not  wish  to  see  him  con- 
fined, and  wiU  most  cheerfully  take  his 
place  in  the  prison,  and  wear  his  chains. 
If  the  lieutenant  is  present  to-morrow  at 
four,  you,  as  his  hostage,  will  be  released. 
If  he  should  escape,  as  you  have  advised, 
of  course  you  will  be  held  as';an  aider  and 
abettor  in  that  escape ;  and  when  you  re- 
ceive that  punishment  your  guilt  deserves, 
you  will  have  the  consolation  of  knowing 
that  you  suffer  for  the  benefit  of  your  very 
dear  friend !  Soldiers,"  commanded  the  of- 
ficer, "  place  the  irons  upon  Captain  Walker, 
and  convey  him  to  the  guard-room  in  the 
old  log-building." 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  You  dare  not  do  it !" 
yelled  Walker,  as  he  foamed  with  rage. 
But  the  soldiers  promptly  obeyed  the  com- 
mand, and  Walker  was  taken  from  the  tent. 

"  This  indignity  shall  be  avenged !"  but  he 
was  carried  quickly  forward,  and  the  guard- 
room door  soon  closed  upon  him. 

"  You  will  be  at  liberty,  upon  your  parole 
of  honor,  until  to-morrow  at  four  o'clock. 
Lieutenant  Wells." 

The  officers  shook  hands  and  separated. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Chinpoicder  Plot  and  the   Conspirator. 
The  Mystei'y  Unfolding. 

Just  as  the  fading  twilight  was  yielding 
to  darkness,  and  beffire  Lieutenant  Wells 


had  been  removed  from  his  cell  by  request 
of  Alibamo,  a  scene  occurred  to  which  we 
must  revert. 

The  room  in  which  Wells  was  placed  was 
in  the  wing  of  a  log-house,  just  in  the  rear 
of  the  brick  school-house  to  which  we  have 
alluded.  Two  doors  led  from  this  apart- 
ment, one  opening  into  the  garden,  the  other 
into  the  main  building.  This  latter  door 
had  been  firmly  secured.  Near  that  open- 
ing into  the  garden,  was  a  small  window, 
the  only  one  in  the  apartment.  As  the 
guard  was  stationed  at  the  door,  escape 
from  the  room  was  impossible.  Surround- 
ing this  garden  were  a  number  of  hedges 
running  in  various  directions,  some  of  them 
forming  the  street  fence,  while  others  orna- 
mented the  winding  gravel  walks. 

As  soon  as  it  was  quite  dark,  a  person 
closely  enveloped  and  disguised,  emerged 
from  among  the  tents,  and  passed  cautiously 
along  in  the  still  intenser  darkness  of  the 
hedge  shadow.  Ever  and  anon  he  would 
pause  and  listen.  Finally  he  reached  the 
further  hedge,  remote  from  the  camp.  He 
paused  a  moment,  and  then  gave  a  low  and 
peculiar  whistle.  It  was  immediately  an- 
swered, and  two  men  joined  the  first 
comer. 

"  Ai-e  you  ready  ?" 

"  No  !"  was  the  answer. 

"  And  why  not  ?" 

"  Because  we  have  not  received  our  pay." 

"  Is  that  the  only  reason  ?" 

"  The  only  reason  after  you  tiave  given 
us  full  instructions." 

"  Where  is  your  powder  ?" 

"  In  the  upper  part  of  the  garden,  under 
the  hedge.  We  have  secured  eight  twelve 
pound  shells  which  we  took  from  that  bat- 
tery over  yonder.  Powder  enough  to  blow 
a  mountaui  to  the  devil." 

"  Well,  here  is  a  hundred  apiece.  When 
the  job  is  done,  you  will  find  as  much  more 
in  the  hollow  log  that  I  pointed  out  last 
night.     Be  careful  and  make  sure  work !" 

"  Well,  your  instructions  1"  « 

"  You  will  follow  the  outer  hedge.  Creep 
along  with  great  caution,  and  make  no  noise. 
There  will  be  no  danger,  as  the  guard  are 
not  on  the  north  side  .of  the  camp.  When 
you  reach  the  log-building  in  the  rear  of 
the  brick  school-house,  you  will  observe  a 
small  wing,  or  addition,  extendmg  to  the 
rear.  At  the  back  of  this  wing  you  will 
find  an  excavation  under  the  house  suffi- 
ciently large  for  your  shells.  Place  them 
in  it,  lay  your  train,  and  then  apply  the 


20 


THE  PRISONER  OP  THE  MILL. 


torch.  But  you  must  do  this  with  great 
caution,  as  a  guard  is  stationed  upon  the 
opposite  side." 

"  Don't  be  alarmed.  Any  one  near  that 
old  log-shanty  will  go  to  kingdom  come  be- 
fore to-moiTOw  morning." 

The  trio  then  separated. 

When  Captain  "Walker  was  seized  and 
chained  by  the  soldiers,  he  made  a  despe- 
rate resistance,  but  in  vain.  He  soon  occu- 
pied the  little  room  vacated  by  Lieutenant 
"Wells.  The  door  closed;  he  heard  the 
clanlcing  of  the  heavy  chains  which  secured 
it,  and  left  him  in  utter  darkness.  He 
stamped,  and  raved  and  cursed.  Suddenly 
starting,  and  wildly  clutching  his  throat,  as 
if  some  terrible  thought  had  crossed  his 
mind,  he  groaned  and  sunk  upon  the  floor. 

"  Fool !  oh  !  fool  that  I  was !  I  thought 
if  I  pretended  friendship,  and  offered  to  assist 
in  his  escape,  all  suspicion  of  this  night's 
work  would  de  diverted  from  me.  But  now 
— oh  !  my  God  !  "What  is  the  horn-  ?  Hark ! 
I  hear  them  working  under  the  building ! 
No  !  it  is  not  the  men  yet.  It  is  too  early. 
I  dare  not  tell  the  guard,  for  an  acknowl- 
edgment of  any  suspicion  of  such  a  plot 
would  be  a  confession  of  my  guilt.  Let  me 
search  for  some  mode  of  escape  !" 

Walker  crawled  cautiously  aroimd  the 
floor,  but  not  a.  crevice  could  be  found. 
'Finally,  exhausted,  he  sunk  down,  giving 
way  to  his  utter  despair.  An  hour — two 
hom^ — dragged  slowly  by,  which  appeared 
an  age  of  misery  to  the  wretched  man. 

"  If  I  give  the  alarm,  even  saying  that  a 
peculiar  soimd  attracted  my  attention,  the 
ruffians  who  are  to  do  the  work,  will  recog- 
nize me,  and  I  shall,  thus  implicated,  sufier 
an  ignominious  death  !  What  is  that  ? 
Great  God !  they  tve  at  work !  But  they 
are  making  so  much  noise  that  the  guard 
will  hear  them,  and  I  shall  yet  be  saved !" 

"  Don't  make  quite  so  much  noise  in 
there,  if  you  please  !"  exclaimed  the  guard, 
^  he  knocked  upon  the  door  where  he  was 
stationed. 

"  It  is  not  me  !"  yelled  the  frantic  man. 
"  Some  one  is  at  the  rear  of  the  building,  try- 
ing to  dig  through — they  want  to  kill  me !" 

"  We  will  see  about  that !"  replied  the 
guard,  as  he  left  his  post,  and  walked  to- 
ward the  spot  indicated. 

Walker  fell  upon  his  knees  and  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Oh  !  I  am  saved — saved  that  dreadful 
ieath  1" 


He  bent  down,  and  applying  his  ear  to  a 
small  crevice  between  the  logs,  where  the 
mud-mortar  had  fallen  out,  he  listened.  He 
could  distinctly  hear  the  words  spoken. 

"  Have  you  silenced  that  d — d  guard  ?" 
was  asked. 

"  Yes,  cut  his  wizzen.  No  danger.  Hurry 
with  the  train  of  powder !" 

"  Gentlemen  !"  yelled  Walker,  "  don't  go 
any  ftulher.     I  am  not  the  man  1" 

"  Quick — fire  the  train  !"  exclaimed  a 
voice  outside. 

A  flash  was  seen,  and  then  another  said : 

"Curse  it,  the  train  has  failed.  Throw 
the  torch  among  the  shells,  and  then  run !" 

Walker  waited  to  hear  no  more,  but 
throwing  himself  with  all  his  violence  against 
the  door,  he  set  up  a  series  of  yells,  which 
made  the  camp  ring.  In  a  moment  steps 
were  heard,  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and 
Walker,  livid  with  fear,  and  frantic,  stag- 
gered into  the  open  air,  gasping  for  breath. 
When  he  had  sufficiently  recovered  his 
fright  to  listen,  the  commander  of  the  squad 
said : 

"  The  powder-plot  has  been  discovered, 
sir.  There  is  no  further  danger  on  that 
head.     But  you  will  return  to  your  cell !" 

This  order  Walker  was  compelled  to  obey, 
and  he  was  again  left  in  darkness,  with 
feelings  better  imagined  than  described. 

The  night  wore  slowly  away.  Lieutenant 
Wells  had  retired  to  his  own  tent.  His 
calmness  of  demeanor  certainly  did  not  in- 
dicate a  guilty  mind.  Alibamo,  too,  was 
wakeful,  and  strove  by  every  possible  kind- 
ness to  sustain  the  heart  and  hopes  of  her 
suffering  companion.  Miss  Nettie  Morton, 
who  had  so  recently  jomed  their  society, 
was  occupying  a  tent  in  company  with  iOss 
Sally  Long,  near  that  of  I^Irs.  Hinton.  They 
also,  were  watchful — anxious  for  the  mor- 
row. But,  perhaps,  the  most  wretched 
person  in  that  camp  was  Captain  Hugh 
Walker.  No  officer  would  have  dared  to 
place  irons  upon  him  and  confine  liim  in  a 
rough  cell,  upon  any  slight  pretext.  Was 
it  not  possible  tliat  something  of  a  serious 
character  had  been  discovered  against  him  ? 
This  surmise  seemed  to  haunt  him,  for  he 
acted  in  a  manner  to  indicate  the  wildest 
apprehensions  of  danger. 

Morning  came  at  last,  and  slowly  the  day 
advanced.  A  guard  brought  Walker  his 
breakfast,  but  the  man  refused  to  answer 
any  question.  During  the  afternoon  he 
heard  the  beating  of  the  drums,  and  the 


THE  ACCUSER  ACCUSED. 


21 


bugle-blast,  which  he  well  understood  was 
calling  the  division  together  for  some  impor- 
tant purpose.  He  felt  satisfied  that  one 
object  was  the  reading  of  tlie  finding  of  the 
court-martial  in  the  case  of  Lieutenant  Wells. 
But,  what  part  was  Tie  to  play  in  the  scene  ? 
This  was  the  question  which  caused  his 
heart  to  beat  with  violence,  as  the  chains 
fell  from  the  door  of  his  prison,  and  he  was 
called  forth. 

He  accompanied  the  guard  in  silence, 
and  soon  entered  the  hollow  square  formed 
by  the  three  brigades  of  the  division.  Walk- 
er glanced  eagerly  around,  and  there,  stand- 
ing beside  the  commanding  General,  was 
Lieutenant  Wells,  with  Miss  Hayward  lean- 
ing upon  his  arm,  and  near  them  were  their 
female  friends.  But  a  few  paces  distant 
were  the  two  ruffians  who  had  been  en- 
gaged in  the  powder-plot.  All  was  silent. 
The  General  advanced  and  said  : 

"  Preliminaiy  to  other  proceedings,  I  wish 
to  ask  Captain  Walker  if  he  ever  before  saw 
these  two  men  ?" 

The  ruffians  advanced,  rattling  their  chains. 
But  Walker  drew  back,  and  with  forced 
calmness  he  replied : 

"  I  never  have  !"  He  dropped  his  head, 
gazing  upon  the  ground. 

The  adjutant  who  held  the  sealed  orders 
of  the  court-martial  by  which  Lieutenant 
Wells  had  been  tried,  then  advanced,  and 
was  about  to  commence  readiog  the  docu- 
ment in  his  hand,  when  a  series  of  yells 
were  heard,  and  in  the  distance  was  seen  the 
grotesque  form  of  Nettleion,  as  he  came 
bounding  along  and  bellowing : 

"  Stop  the  shootin' !    Stop  the  shootin' !" 

It  was  well  known  throughout  the  army 
that  Nettleton  had  remained  behind  in  search 
of  Captain  Hayward.  As  he  approached, 
the  most  intense  excitement  was  manifest. 
Lieutenant  Wells  could  scarcely  control  his 
feelings,  and  would  have  rushed  forward  to 
meet  Nettleton,  had  not  Mrs.  Hinton  gently 
laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  begging  him  to 
be  calm.  IVIiss  Hayward  clung  closer  to  her 
lover,  as  she  hoped  the  news  about  to  be 
brought  by  her  brother's  friend  would  re- 
lieve her  agony  of  suspense.  A  half-sup- 
pressed cheer  broke  from  the  soldiers,  as 
Nettleton  burst  into  the  square. 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  his  breast  heav- 
ing, and  his  eyes  glaring  wildly.  But  an 
instant  was  sufficient  for  him  to  discover 
that  Wells  was  yet  alive,  and  that  the  ob- 
ject of  his  suspicion  also  lived-  He  sprung 
forward,   and,    without   uttering   a   word, 


seized  Walker  by  the  foot,  which  he  at  once 
drew  under  his  ann;  then  he  as  suddenly 
bounded  for  the  spot  where  the  command- 
ant was  standing,  dragging  the  foot  along 
with  him. 

Of  course  this  sudden  movement  on  the 
part  of  Nettleton  had  thrown  Walker  \-io- 
lently  upon  his  head,  and,  although  he 
kicked,  and  squirmed  and  cursed,  he  was 
dragged  along  as  if  he  had  been  a  child. 

When  Nettleton  reached  the  commander, 
he  held  the  foot  of  Walker  within  a  few 
baches  of  that  officer's  face,  and  j^elled  : 

"  Look !  look !  General — see  them  boots !" 

Notwithstanding  the  intense  anxiety  felt 
for  the  result  of  Nettleton's  search,  the  ridi- 
culous figure  he  presented  in  his  eagerness, 
and  that  of  Walker  who  was  twistiag  and 
struggling  to  escape,  a  general  laugh  ran 
through  the  division,  which  was  joined  in 
by  the  commander.  Even  Wells  could  not 
suppress  a  smile. 

"  And  what  about  those  boots  ?"  asked 
the  commander,  after  silence  had  been  re- 
stored. 

"  Why,  I've  blacked  them  !"  yelled  Net- 
tleton. 

Another  laugh  was  heard  along  the  line. 

"  No  doubt  you  have  blacked  them.  But 
what  of  this  ?" 

"  Why,  Giaeral,  don't  you  see  them  ttoo 
hearts  made  with  nails,  on  the  sole  of  that 
boot  ?" 

"  Certainly  I  see  them.  And  what  then  ?" 

Walker  was  now  permitted  to  resume  his 
upright  position,  and  he  stood  trembling 
with  fear  and  rage,  as  Nettleton  went  on  to 
relate  his  first  suspicions  of  Walker,  his 
search  for  the  body  of  Captain  Hayward,  his 
finding  the  impression  of  the  footprints 
standing  side  by  side  in  the  mud,  at  the  edge 
of  the  stream,  with  the  marks  of  two  hearts 
in  the  sole  of  each  boot ;  and  then  the  find- 
ing of  the  handkerchief  in  the  water,  which 
Nettleton  then  produced. 

The  officer  took  the  white  linen  witness, 
examining  it  closelj^  and  then  said  .- 

"  Here  is  the  name  of  '  Walker,'  in  the 
corner.  William,  did  you  find  this  near  the 
place  where  the  murder  was  committed  ?" 

"  Right  by  the  spot  where  them  two 
boots  stood  !"  replied  Nettleton,  pointing  to 
Walker's  feet. 

"  I  can  explain  this,"  exclaimed  Walker, 
"  I  went  to  the  river  that  day  to  wash,  and 
I  stood  upon  the  bank  to  do  so.  I  presume 
I  left  the  impression  of  my  boots  there  at 
that  time.     If  I  did  not,  was  I  not  also 


23 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


present  in  the  morning  to  examine  the  spot 
where  the  murder  had  been  committed  ? 
And  is  it  a  wonder  that  the  impression  of 
my  boots  should  be  left  behind  ?" 

"  That  is  certainly  true,"  replied  the  Gen- 
eral.    "  But  of  the  handkerchief?" 

"  It  fell  from  my  hands  as  I  was  washing, 
and  I  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  recover 
it." 

"  It  is  very  probable !"  replied  the  General. 
"  So  j'ou  perceive,"  replied  Walker,  as  he 
appeared  to  gain  courage,  "  your  trumped 
up  evidence  has  fallen  to  the  ground  !  I  did 
not  expect  a  combination  of  both  officers 
and  men  against  me,  but  I  find  it  so.  And 
thej'  wish  to  see  ijw  suffer  for  the  bloody 
deed  done  by  that  coward.  "Elie  only  rea- 
son I  can  assign  for  this  persecution  is,  that 
he  is  in  favor  with  the  ladies,  and  you,  syco- 
phants that  you  are,  hope,  through  him,  to 
gain  favor  with  his  Mr  companions.  No 
doubt  some  bargain  to  that  eflPect  already 
has  been  effected !" 

Captam  Walker  had  by  this  time  become 
eloquent,  and  defiant.  Nettleton,  with  his 
too  eager  perceptions,  had  failed  to  foresee 
the  possible  fallacy  of  his  proofs,  for  hope 
and  prejudice  together  had  prevented  any 
calm  examination  of  his  evidence.  With  a 
sorrowful  and  troubled  look,  he  turned  away. 
This  gave  Walker  greater  confidence,  and, 
in  a  loud  but  hoarse  voice  he  cried : 

"  And  now  I  demand  justice  !" 

"  Which  you  shall  have,"  replied  the  Gen- 
eral. "  But  first  answer  me  ;  how  did  this 
handkerchief,  which  bears  your  name,  and 
which  you  confess  to  having  used  in  the 
stream,  become  bloody?" 

That  was  another  point  of  interest,  and 
Nettleton  paused  to  listen  attentively. 

"  I  had  a  bleeding  at  the  nose,  and  the 
reason  I  threw  the  dirty  thing  away,  was,  I 
did  not  think  it  worth  washing !" 

"  Then  some  person  must  have  recovered 
it,  washed  it  very  carefully,  and  thrown  it 
into  the  stream  again,  for  there  is  no  blood 
Tipqn  itP' 

Walker  attempted  a  reply,  but  his  utter- 
ance failed.  The  General  enjoined  silence, 
and  then  stepping  forward  he  said,  in  a 
voice  sufficiently  loud  to  be  heard  by  all 
present :  • 

"  Captain  Walker,  I  must  sum  up,  before 
you,  the  evidence  of  crimes  you  have  com- 
mitted, which  have  no  parallel  in  the  histo- 
ry of  tlie  army,  or  of  crimes  which  have  ever 
been,  or  attempted  to  be  committed  in  any 
civilized  country.     I  would  give  you  the 


benefit  of  a  court-martial,  were  there  any 
doubt  of  your  guilt,  and  even  tww  may  order 
a  trial,  but  it  will  only  be  a  formal  one. 
You  had  better  confess  your  guilt,  here,  be- 
fore all — ask  their  pardon — make  repara- 
tion to  those  you  have  most  uijured,  and  die 
repentant !" 

"  I  have  nothing  to  confess !"  responded 
Walker,  bitterly. 

"  Have  you  no  fear  of  the  revelations  of 
these  two  soldiers?"  asked  the  General, 
pointing  to  the  chained  niffians. 

"  I  have  no  fear !  No  doubt  they  have 
been  bribed  to  conspire  with  you  !  But,  vent 
your  spite !     Go  on  !" 

"  Then,  Captain  Walker,  I  will  briefly 
enumerate  the  circumstances  which  have 
been  developed,  as  well  as  t\ie  facts.  The 
morning  we  left  Grand  Prairie  you  were  in 
command  of  the  squad  which  escorted  the 
prisoner.  Lieutenant  Edward  Wells.  You 
had  not  proceeded  far  when  you  were  over- 
taken by  two  men.  It  was  a  very  easy 
matter  to  secure  an  audience  with  you  as 
you  were  in  the  rear  of  the  division.  They 
suggested  that  you  should  deliver  Lieutenant 
Wells  to  them,  as  their  commander  had  an 
especial  spite  against  him,  and  wished  to  se- 
cure his  person.  You  asked  these  men  (I 
refer  to  the  two  ruffians  now  in  chains  and 
standing  by  your  side,)  how  they  dared  to 
approach  you  on  such  a  subject,  and  they 
replied  that  they  had  tcitnessed  your  act  the 
evening  previous,  and  that  you  need  not  A 
put  on  airs  with  them  !  You  then  requested  ^ 
these  fellows  to  meet  you  the  next  evening 
at  the  upper  hedge.  You  instructed  them 
to  secure  a  number  of  pounds  of  powder  for 
some  purpose,  which  you  would  then  ex- 
plain. You  met  tliem  the  next  evening. 
You  gave  them  instructions.  They  were 
about  to  act  upon  them,  when  your  outcries 
from  the  coll  in  which  you  had  been  placed, 
and  which  Lieutenant  Wells  had  left  only  a 
short  time  previously,  attracted  the  attention 
of  the  guard,  and  you  were  rescued.  Prior 
to  this  you  had  offered  to  assist  Lieutenant 
Wells  to  escape,  but  you  wished  him  to  re- 
turn to  his  cell  and  temaiu  until  two  or 
three  o'clock.  The  fiendish  act  was  to  be 
committed  between  twelve  and  one.  You 
pretended  friendship,  that  all  suspicion  of  the 
act  might  be  diverted  from  you.  Have  I 
spoken  correctlj^  sir  ?" 

"  No  doubt  you  have  spoken  according 
to  the  story  of  those  ruffians!"  replied 
Walker.  You  can  not  bring  against  me 
any  respectable  proof     I  look  to  a  court  for 


NETTLETON'S  PAROLE  OF  HONOR. 


sd 


the  justice  which  I  have  no  reason  to  ex- 
pect here." 

"  Look !" 

Walker,  who  had  been  shaking  like  a 
guilty  wretch  during  the  speech  of  the 
commander,  turned  in  the  direction  indicated. 
The  rough  garb  had  fallen  from  the  ruffians ; 
their  chains  were  thrown  aside,  and,  to  his 
astonishment  and  liorror,  there  stood  two  of 
the  regimental  Union  officers,  Adjutajtt 
HrNTON,  the  husband  of  Alibamo,  and  his 
I  friend,  C-u^TAnsr  Clakk  ! 

Walker,  who  now  saw  how  he  had  been 
entrapped,  and  detected  in  his  infamy,  for 
a  moment  was  utterly  unmanned.  But,  his 
resolute  nature  soon  triumphed  over  his 
fear.  Well  realizing  that  penitence  could 
not  save  him,  he  sprung  to  his  feet  and 
said  : 

"  This  is  all  a  miserable,  contemptible  con- 
spiracy— an  effort  to  make  out  a  case  against 
me  to  shield  that  woman's  pet  from  the 
consequences  of  his  clearly  proven  crime. 
Hayward  is  dead,  and  can  not  be  made  to 
answer,  else — " 

"You  lie,  you  dirty,  nasty,  murderin' 
skunk !" 

"  What !"  exclaimed  a  dozen  voices. 

"  He  lies !  the  coward  that  stabs  a  man 
in  the  dark!  Hayward  is  not  dead,  but 
lives,  and  will  soon  by  his  evidence  send 


^0lmM 


this  mm-derer  to  kingdom  come  !" 


With  a  shriek  Miss  Hayward  bounded 
forward,  and  fell  at  the  feet  of  Nettleton, 
grasping  his  hands.  Wells,  who  had  borne 
bravely  up  until  this  moment,  covered  his 
face,  and  wept  tears  of  joy  and  of  relief 
from  the  imputation  of  crime.  Sally  Long 
sprung  to  the  side  of  Nettleton,  and,  throw- 
ing her  arms  around  his  neck  she  gave  him 
a  hearty  kiss,  which  caused  him  to  roll  up 
his  green  eyes,  and  aj^pear  in  almost  as 
much  agony  as  if  he  had  been  struck  in  the 
stomach  with  a  cannon-ball.  The  word 
was  soon  passed,  and  the  soldiers,  catching 
the  fire,  made  the  very  welkin  ring  with 
their  shouts,  while  the  band  chimed  in  with 
the  stin-ing  strain  :  "  HaU  to  the  Chief  1" 


A  Live  Hero  ■ 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

The  Betrograde  Army  Move- 
ment 


The  villain  Walker  was  returned  to  his 
lonely  cell.  Lieutenant  Wells  was  released 
from  all  restraint     The  soldiers  dispersed 


to  talk  about  the  strange  turn  events  had 
taken,  but  the  center  of  attraction  was  Net- 
tleton.  He  was  seated  iu  front  of  the  Hin- 
ton  tent.  Close  beside  him  was  Miss  Hay- 
ward, kneeling,  and  gazing  mournfully  into 
his  face,  while  Alibamo,  Wells,  the  General, 
Nettie  Morton,  Sally  Long,  the  officers  who 
had  composed  the  court-martial,  the  especial 
friends  of  the  parties,  and  as  many  of  the 
soldiers  as  could  get  within  hearing  distance, 
were  earnestly  listening  to  the  narrative  of 
the  "body-guard." 

Nettleton  went  on  to  relate  his  meeting 
the  rebel  scouts,  and  the  fact  of  their  having 
informed  him  that  Hayward  had  only  been 
wounded  and  conveyed  toward  Wilson's 
Creek,  by  a  party  attached  to  the  command 
of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Price. 

[The  reader  will  mark  the  distinction 
between  Lieutenant-Colonel  Price,  who  was 
a  ruffian  guerrilla,  and  had  broken  his  parole 
three  times — an  act  repudiated  by  all  honest 
soldiers  of  either  army — and  General  Sterling 
Price,  who,  although  a  rebel,  always  had 
acted  in  a  gentlemanly  and  humane  manner 
to  all  prisoners  of  war.] 

After  listening  to  the  story  of  William, 
the  General  drew  from  his  pocket  the  note 
which  had  been  foimd  at  the  Ozark  bridge, 
signed  "  Charles  Campbell."  This  note 
must  have  been  written  but  a  few  moments 
before  the  fight  took  place.  The  date  would 
be  just  two  days  after  Hayward  had  receiv- 
ed the  assassin's  stroke,  giving  about  the 
proper  time  for  the  wounded  man  to  be 
carried  from  Grand  Prairie  to  Ozark,  at 
which  latter  place  Lieutenant-Colonel  Price 
had  formed  a  temporary  camp.  The  writer 
spoke  of  a  wounded  man  in  a  boat,  and 
against  whom  Price  had  an  especial  spite. 
This  confirmed  the  conviction  that  Hayward 
had  been  taken  thither  for  the  especial  grat- 
ification of  Price's  fiendish  propensities. 
The  note  also  said  that  he  bore  the  marks 
of  a  captain's  rank,  and,  in  his  delirium, 
spoke  of  "  Net — "  which  might  have  refer- 
red to  the  young  lady,  Nettie  Morton,  whom 
he  possibly  might  have  seen  in  the  distance, 
upon  the  bank,  as  the  boat  neared  the  spot 
where  she  was  standing,  or,  as  seemed  more 
probable,  that  the  woimded  captain  was 
calling  upon  Nettleton.  At  all  events,  it 
was  decided  that  the  person  of  whom  Charles 
Campbell  had  written,  was  no  other  than 
Captain  Hayward.  It  is  true,  he  was  still 
almost  insensible  from  his  wounds,  and  was 
near  the  camp  of  his  most  unforgiving  en- 
emy, but,  there  was  a  friend  at  hand — an 


24 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MttL. 


enemy  in  arms — but  a  friend  to  the  wound- 
ed and  helpless  soldier,  as  are  all  true  men 
— and  he  had  written  that  "  he  would  save 
him !" 

"  Why  should  we  not  hope  ?"  asked  Ali- 
bamo,  as  she  clasped  her  friend  Mamie  in 
her  arms. 

"  And  why  should  we  not  act  ?"  cried 
Wells,  as  he  clutched  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

"  Yes,  we  will  act,"  yelled  Nettleton,  as  he 
sprung  up,  and  appeared  ready  for  instant 
departure. 

"  Go,  William ;  follow  the  stream  from 
Ozark,  until  you  find  some  trace,  and  then 
return  to  us,"  said  jMiss  Hayward,  eagerly. 

Nettleton  turned  his  gaze  upon  Miss  Sally, 
for  a  moment,  and  then,  as  if  ashamed  of 
his  hesitation,  or  of  his  weakness,  in  exhib- 
iting a7iy  symptoms  of  love,  he  started  with 
a  bound,  exclaiming : 

"  I'm  off.    Good-by,  all !" 

He  had  proceeded,  however,  but  a  few 
steps  when  he  halted,  and,  scratching  his 
head,  his  countenance  assumed  a  most  woful 
expression,  and  his  eyes  rolled  wildly  about. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  William  ?"  asked 
Wells. 

"  Got  to  go  father  way  /"  was  the  melan- 
choly reply. 

"Why  so?" 

"  0,  jusf  a  bit  of— fun— that's  all !" 

"  Well,  tell  us  what  it  is,  Nettleton  ?" 

"  I  can't !  It  will  break  Tier  heart !"  he 
replied,  pointing  to  Sally. 

"  So  it  would,  William,  if  any  thing  dread- 
ful should  happen  to  you !"  replied  Miss 
Long,  as  she  dropped  her  ej-es  to  the 
ground. 

"  There,  didn't  I  tell  you  so  ?"  replied  the 
faithful  seiTant,  his  mouth  gapuigiy  and  his 
eyes  expanding. 

"  William,"  asked  Wells,  "  do  you  really 
loxe  Miss  Long  ?" 

"  XtOXQ  her,  lieutenant  ?  That  ain't  no 
name  for  it.  Why,  can't  you  see  yourself 
that  she's  the  sweetest  darn  sk —  no,  I  mean 
the  nicest  critter  in  the  world — exceptin' 
Miss  Mamie !" 

"And  does  she  love  you,  William?"  asked 
Alibamo,  smiling  in  spite  of  herself  at  the 
tableau  enacting  before  her. 

'■'^  Of  course  I  do  !"  replied  Sally,  proudly 
and  triumphantly,  as  if  a  victory  had  been 
woti. 

"  There — there !  Do  you  hear  that  ?  Now, 
don't  you  pity  me  ?  I  believe  I  am  the  most 
ugly  cuss  in  the  world.  I  never  thought 
anybody  would  ever  love  me,  and  now   I 


find  out  the  gal  as  I  wants  most  is  just  the 
one  as  does  love  me !  Oh  Lordy,  I'm  sick, 
I  do  believe !" 

"  AU  right  I"  Wells  responded,  with  a 
smile. 

"  All  right  1  Not  by  a  blasted  sight,  sir  I 
Did  you  think  it  all  right  when  you  loved 
Miss  Mamie,  and  thought  you  had  to  swing?" 

"  What !    You  talk  in  riddles.    Explain." 

"  Fte  got  to  be  hung !"  he  roared,  but, 
whether  with  pain  or  delight,  none  could 
tell. 

"  Why,  you  didn't  have  any  thing  to  do 
with  hurting  the  captain  ?"  cried  SaUy,  as 
she  advanced  toward  her  beloved. 

Nettleton  gazed  at  her  an  instant  with  a 
most  singular  expression,  and  then  replied  : 

"  Miss  Long,  never  let  suspicion  cross 
that  delicate  bo —  mind  of  yours,  but  like 
the  true  turkle-dove,  put  your  trust  in  the 
uprighteousness  of  your  future  lord  and 
master,  wtiat  is  to  be  hanged  all  on  account 
of  the  first  time  you  wrapped  them  delicate 
aims  of  youm  arovmd  my  long  neck." 

"  William,  what  do  you  mean  by  being 
hanged?"  asked  the  General. 

Nettleton  then  went  on  to  relate  the 
agreement  he  had  made  with  Price,  to  re- 
turn, and  undergo  the  punishment  which 
was  about  to  be  inflicted  upon  him  when 
that  General  interfered.  He  declared  his 
intention  of  returning  at  once,  a^  his  "  ftir- 
lough"  had  run  out,  and  as  a  "  man  of  liODipr"| 
he  must  return. 

"  And  do  you  really  intend  to  return  ?"' 
asked  the  General. 

'' Of  course  I  do  !"  replied  William,  with 
something  of  scorn  and  much  of  pride  in  his 
tones. 

-  "  William,  think  for  a  moment.  You  ar& 
now  safe.  You  are  with  one  who  loves  you, 
and  with  whom  you  can  be  happy.  Why 
wiU  you  return  ?" 

"  General,  don't  argue  this  point  with  me. 
I  said  I  would  come  back,  and  dam  me  if 
I  don't !"  Nettleton  started,  after  having 
shook  the  hand  of  liis  friends. 

"  Stay  a  moment,  Nettleton,"  said  the 
General.  "  I  have  a  letter  from  General 
Price  with  regard  to  you." 

Nettleton  paused  and  listened,  as  the 
commander,  opening  the  envelope,  read  : 

"  Camp  near  Cassville,  Nov.  12th,  1861. 

"  To  General ,  greeting  : 

'  "  A  prisoner  of  war  was  released  from  our 
camp,  and  permitted  to  return  to  Springfield, 
on  the  9th.  It  was  at  first  thought  that  he 
was  a  spy,  as  he  had  been  sewi  in  and  near 
our  camp  before,  and  he  was  about  to  suffer 


1 

h  ''■^ 


f.V 


MURDER  AND  ARSON^ 


85 


death  upon  the  scaffold,  Tvhea  I  saw  and 
questioned  him.  I  became  convinced  that 
he  was  no  si)y,  but  a  faithful  servant  and 
friend,  searching  for  his  captain,  whom  he 
loved.  2' ordered  his  release.  I  gave  him  a 
parole  of  honor.  He  promised  to  return  that 
the  sentence  of  the  '  drum-head  court'  could 
be  carried  into  effect  upon  him,  after  he  had 
given  the  evidence  he  possessed,  which  he 
declarediw^as  necessary  to  save  an  innocent 
man.  I  admire  his  truthfulness.  Should 
he  be  determined  to  return,  of  which  I 
have  no  doubt,  you  will  read  this  letter, 
which  releases  William  Nettleton  from  any 
further  obligation.  He  will  remain  with  his 
friends,  and  be  happy. 
"  Signed  by  the  A.  A.  A.  G. 

"  For  the  Commander,  Price." 

The  effect  upon  the  gallant  fellow  of  the 
reading  of  this  letter,  was  somewhat  singu- 
lar. He  stood  for  a  moment  gaping  around 
upon  the  spectators,  as  if  he  had  been  caught 
in  some  mean  act.  Then  a  smile  came 
over  his  face  like  sunhght  creeping  over  a 
rugged  mountain  top.  Soon  his  counte- 
nance looked  like  a  newly  risen  sun — fairly 
blazing  with  blushes.  Then,  with  a  wild 
toJioop,  which  rung  out  "like  a  Signal,  he 
sprung  into  air,  rattled  his  feet  together,  and 
once  on  earth  again,  bounded  off  like  a  great 
moose,  for  the  nearest  thicket,  where  to  in- 
dulge his  "  feelings  "  without  restraint. 

The  crowd  dispersed  in  good-humor,  to 
talk  over  the  strange  events  of  an  hour.  If 
^it  was  happier  than  all,  it  was  that 
Mamie,  whose  joy  at  the  proven  in- 
nocence of  her  friend  and  lover  was  too 
intense  for  words.  In  her  heart  a  new  hope 
had  also  arisen,  that  her  dear  brother  would 
^^^feJIC  restored  to  her  arms,  and  thus  fill 
up  The  cup  of  her  blessings  to  the  brim. 

It  had  been  decided  by  the  ft-iends  of 
Hayward,  that  a  search  for  the  captain 
would  be  useless,  but  it  was  hoped  that 
Charles  Campbell  would  give  some  informa- 
tion which  would  lead  to  his  discovery,  or 
that  Fall-leaf,  a  celebrated  Indian  scout,  who 
had  now  been  absent  many  days  on  the  very, 
line  of  the  enemy's  march,  would  return, 
with  some  tidings,  by  which  the  actions  of^ 
the  captain's  anxious  friends  should  be  gotii; 
emed. 

The  Army  of  the  Mississippi,  haviiff' 
passed  from  ^^gmont's  command  to  thafcjroP' 
General  Hui^HRhad  been  ordered  to  faff 
back  from  Sprogfield,  in  two  columj|||. 
The  one  by  the  way  of  the  Osage  and  Wirfi^ 
saw  to  Tipton,  Mo.,  on  the  line  of  the  mi^pij,' 
Pacific  road,  and  the  other  by  way  of  Leba- 
non,  on  the  main  road  between  Springfie)jS 


and  Rolla,  the  south-western  branch  of  the 
same  road.  Each  place,  in  distance  from 
Springfield,  was  about  one  hundred  and 
twenty -five  mUes.  _,'^ 

The  march  of  the  division  to  which  Cap- 
tain Haywaxd's  friends  were  attached,  which 
wa^  under  the  command  of  the  brave  Sigel, 
was  commenced  on  the  morning  of  Novem- 
ber 20th.  That  division  formed  the  rear  of 
the  entire  army.  It  proceeded  by  the  RoUa 
turnpike. 

Notliing  ef  note  transpired  until  the  di- 
vision Was  ascending  the  rolling  hill  about 
two  miles  before  reaching  Lebanon,  when  a 
horseman,  his  face  and  head  streaming  with 
blood,  rode  rapidly  along  the  lines,  ex- 
claiming : 

"  Fight  in  front !  Fight  m  front !" 
He  halted  for  no  one  to  question  him,  but 
kept  on  his  way.  No  guns  were  heard,  and 
many  expressed  the  opinion  that  it  must  be 
a  strange  fight.  But,  as  a  necessary  pre- 
caution, the  infantry-men  were  hajted,  their 
pieces  loaded,  and  bayonets  fix:ed.  The 
artillery  was  charged,  and  flags  unfurletL 
As  the  troops  ascendtdjhe  hill,  and  looljea 
in  vain  for  a  foe,  the  %;}estion  was  asked : 
"  Where  is  the  fight  ?"  '    ^  ,_  \^Jy  ::<t^i 

This  was  soon  settled,  ^_  angttf8t''a[^ss^;''' ' 
ger  rode  up  and  informed  tL-i^^heraVjliatai^  , 
party  or  squadron  of  rebel  ca^lry,  number^. .'' 
ing  about  four  hundred^^had  ^tacked  >'littl A*" f>^ 
band  of  "'home  'guards,''   of  m^  thir,t^' 
which  had  been  collected  in  a  valley  sojifi 
twenty  miles  south  of  Lebanon,  on  the  main 
road,  in  a  place  called  "  Bohannan  IVIUls 
valley."     Most  of  the  thirty  "  home  gward  " 
hadjbeen  killed,  wounded  or  dispersed  by 
the-  guemllas.      Then  all  fam"Ilie3  in  that 
vicinity  ^owi/to  entertain  Union  proclivi- 
ties, '^wgre^^sited   at  the   dead   of  night. 
'!;^^Iurder*and  arson"  was  the  cry.     Many 
'poor  creatures  soon  were  in  the  agonies  of 
d^ath.      Husbands,  who  had  rushed  from 
|c6n6aalmei^t  to  defend  their  wives,  had  been 
^"clpy^to  the  earth;  children  ran  shrieking 
"tojaJi*!-  fro,  only  to  be  dashed  to  pieces, bj: 
hi^i  savages  of  the  Mssouri  Mountain.     It 
;as  a  carnival  of  lust  and  blood,  over  ^■^'hich 
[e^  his);orian  ever  must    dwell  in  horror. 
'Ajgil^  yet,  these  fiends  in  human  shape  were     • 
"il^ected  by  the  segis  of  the  "  Confeder|rt6^''    • 
flag!  ,;"'■• 

'Such  was  the  scene  depicted  .^j  the  tne^' 

senger,  when  j-he*  division  w^^alted^tvna  a 

consultation  took  place.    v€t '  was  detided 

[that,  while  the  main  army*went  forward, 

two   companies  of  infantry,  a   section  of 


26 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  ^HLL. 


artillery,  and  a  company  of  cavalry,  should 
be  detached  to  proceed  at  once  to  "  Bohan- 
nan  Mills,"  to  protect  the  helpless  families, 
and,  if  possible,  to  punish  the  rebel  horde 
which  had  committed  such  awful  crimes 
against  humanity. 


CHAPTER  Vni. 

Gone  ! — The  Signal  Song. 

We  must  now  take  the  reader  back  to 
Springfield.  It  was  one  week  after  the  ex- 
posure and  confinement  of  Walker,  and 
something  like  a  month  before  the  army 
had  commenced  its  retrograde  movement, 
as  described  in  the  foregoing  chapter. 

Walker,  after  the  first  paroxysm  of  his 
rage  was  over,  settled  himself  down  to  think. 
Although  he  had  shown  a  bold  front  at  first, 
his  final  conviction  drove  from  his  heart  all 
resolution,  and  he  evinced  the  most  abject 
cowardice — the  cowardice  of  conscious  guilt, 
which  makes  the  strongest  tremble. 

But  Walker  was  not  a  man  to  sit  quietly 
in  his  cell,  and  submit  to  his  fate.  His  mind 
having  been  settled  in  the  conviction  that 
certain  death  would  follow,  he  began  to  form 
his  plans  of  action.  To  arrive  at  any  defi- 
nite conclusion  was  no  easy  matter,  as  he 
was  chained,  and  a  double  guard  placed 
around  his  quarters.  Yet  he  had  hope — 
time  was  given  and  all  might  yet  be  right. 
He  learned  that  he  was  not  to  be  tried  by 
a  division  court-martial,  but  would  be  re- 
moved to  St.  Louis,  in  order  that  a  general 
court  mighty  act  upon  his  case.  He  also 
learned  that  it  would  be  at  least  a  month, 
before  the  army  would  take  up  its  march. 
Thus  he  had  time — time  precious  to  him — 
for,  like  all  shrewd  villains,  he  had  his  con- 
federates, even  in  the  army  as  well  as  out  of 
it,  and  to  these  he  now  looked  for  his  bodily 
safety. 

It  was  the  third  night  of  his  incarcera- 
tion, that,  springing  to  his  feet,  he  listened 
intently.  There  were  three  distinct  taps  on 
the  door. 

"  The  rescuers — the  gang — I'm  saved  !" 
he  muttered,  as  he  gave  thi-ee  taps  on  the 
door,  in  response. 

"  What's  the  word  ?"  was  asked  from  the 
outside. 

"  0.  8.  A.  and  the  Bars !"  answered  Walk- 
er.    "And  you?" 

"  Good  !     Union  against  oppression  !" 

"To-night  ?"  asked  Walker,  with  eagerness. 


"  No,  the  pal  on  the  other  side  am't  for 
Union.  Can't  before  day  after  to-morrow. 
Jim  goes  on  then,  and  though  it  ain't  my 
turn,  I  think  I  can  get  pony  No.^  drunk, 
and  the  job  can  be  done.     I'll  trj^." 

"  Be  cautious.  Trust  no  one  without  the 
word.  It  was  the  neglect  on  my  part,  think- 
ing it  all  right,  to  demand  the  ^\  words,' 
which  brought  me  into  this  scrape !" 

The  "rounds"  approached,  and  the  senti- 
nel was  relieved. 

Nothing  of  importance  transpired  in 
camp  for  the  next  three  days.  An  unusual 
quiet  prevailed.  It  is  true,  there  was  much 
talk  upon  the  subject  of  the  attempted,  mur- 
der, and  many  expressions  of  bitterness 
against  Walker.  Some  even  went  so  far  as 
to  suggest  the  hanging  of  that  wretch  before 
the  army  left  Springfield,  lest  he  should  es- 
cape. None  were  more  vehement  than  a 
repulsive  looking  soldier,  known  throughout 
camp  as  "  ugly  Jim  !"  He  stated  that  he 
had  been  on  guard  only  a  few  nights  before 
in  front  of  the  prisoner's  quarters,  and  that 
he  had  eveiy  reason  to  believe  Walker  was 
trying  to  escape,  adding  that  he  wished  he 
had  been  satisfied  of  the  fact,  as  he  would 
have  been  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  put  a 
bullet  through  the  murderous  scoundrel. 

The  party  had  been  drinking  freely,  and 
had     become    exceedingly    communicative. 
One  of  the  soldiers,  whose  post  wasjjn^^^ 
on  guard  duty  that  night — that  ib;-!n  front    \ 
of  the  prisoner's  door — swore  he  v,  ould  shoot     I 
Walker  if  he  could  find  any  pretext.  I 

"  Tou  have  no  spite  against  1/im,"  ex- 
claimed ugly  Jim,  "and/  have.  "I. 
take  the  matter  in  hand.  I  Avill  stand  ^  ; 
guard,  and  if  the  villain  attempts  to  move, 
I'll  riddle  him,  sure  as  Potosi  lead  mines."  ■ 
"  Enough  said.  I  am  on  the  second  re- 
lief I  go  on  at  seven  and  off  at  nine ; 
again  at  twelve  and  oflf  at  two.  This  will 
be  your  time." 

"  Good  !  I  shall  be  on  hand  !'' 
Ugly  Jim  then  approached  the  tent  of 
Miss  Hayward,  and  requested  an  audience 
alone  with  that  lady.  It  so  happened  that 
she  was  alone,  Alibamo  having  gone  to  visit 
her  husband,  and  Sally  being  at  the  time 
strolling  through  the  camp  with  Nettleton. 
"  If  you  wish  to  learn  i^ig^e  particulars 
about  your  brother,  I  thin^^pi  can  do  so," 
said  Jim,  in  a  tone  of  greaWmdness. 

"  Oh  !    in   what  manner  ?"    asked   Miss 
Hayward,  eagerly.  y 

"  I  don't  exactly  know.     But  I  will  tell 
you  what  I  do  know.     You  see  I  am  on 


mCTION  OF  MISS  HAYWARD. 


27 


g:nard  to-night  from  twel^  till  two,  over  the 
cell  of  Walker.  I  don't&e  the  villain  any 
way,  but,  he  told  me  if  f  .woiild  get  you  to 
come  to  him,  he  would  t^iiyou  all  he  knows 
of  the  matter !"  -^ 

"  Certainly  I  will  go.  j^all  Alibamo,  and 
we  will  go  together,  at  ^ce !" 

"  I  will,"  answered  J^,  as  he  turned  to 
depart.     Then  pausing,  he  added : 

"  Miss  Hayward,  now  I  recollect  that 
Walker  said  you  must  come  alone.  He  de- 
clared he  would  not  .commit  himself  by 
speaking  before  any  on§,", 

"  I  dare  not  go  aloneSiV 

"  Poor  child !"  exc^imed  Jim,  as  he 
wiped  his  eyes.  "  Do  ^ou  think  you  can 
be  alone  when  this  old  soldier,  as  folks  call 
'  ugly  Jim,'  is  near  you  ?  I  know  my  face 
is  ugly,  but  I  don't  think  ~my  heart  is  !  Be- 
sides, you  won't  see  the  wjetch  himself.  You 
will  only  talk  to  him  through  a  crack  be- 
tween the  logs,  and  I  shall  be  as  close  to 
you  as  Walker  will  allow.  Of  course  he 
wont  let  Tne  hear  what  he  says,  but  I  shan't 
let  you  be  out  of  my  sigkt,  so  there  will  be 
no  danger !" 

"  Why  can  we  not  go  at  once  ?"  asked 
Miss  Hayward. 

"  Because  I  don't  go  on  post  until  twelve 
o'clock,  and  the  other  guard  wouldn't  let 
you  speak  to  him." 

"  Then  I  will  come  at  quarter  past  twelve. 
But  I  shall  rely  upon  j'ou  for  protection !" 

"  You  may  do  that,  miss.  And  I  really 
think  you  do  right.  I  know  Walker  is  a 
very  bad  man,  but'  he  has  got  to  die,  and 
may  be  he  wants  to  make  a  confession  to 
relieve  his  mind,  and  to  ask  your  pardon. 
And  I  always  think  it  best  to  give  a  dying 
man  a  chance  to  relieve  his  mind,  and  con- 
fess." 

"  You  may  expect  me  !" 

Jim  bowed,  and  left  the  tent. 

Twelve  o'clock  came ;  the  guard  was  re- 
lieved, and  "  ugly  Jim  "  had  taken  the  place 
of  his  sick  friend,  in  front  of  Walker's  prig-, 
on.  All  was  quiet,  save  the  clanking  of  a 
chain,  a  few  hurried  whispers,  and  the  open^.' 
ing  and  closing  of  a  heavy  door,  which 
sounds  were  in  close  proximity  to  Walkers, 
dungeon.  The  words  "  C.  S.  A.  and  Bars  '^ 
were  answered  by  "  Union  against  Oppres-'^ 
sion,^'  and  two  dark  forms  glided  to  condeaL-,' 
ment  beside  the  thorn  hedge,  while  ^^ 
guard  remained  at  the  door.  .  ^ 

The  evening  dragged  slowly  along  fo!j^ 
Miss  Hayward.     A  hundred  times  she  hsidi 


almost  resolved  to  communicate  to  her 
friends  the  fact  of  her  intended  visit  to 
Walker,  and  to  ask  their  advice,  and,  if 
need  be,  to  request  that  some  one  should 
follow  in  the  distance,  to  lend  assistance, 
should  any  be  required.  But  what  had  she 
to  fear?  Walker  was  secure  in  his  cell,  and 
one  of  the  faithful  guard  had  promised  his 
protection.  Besides,  she  had  promised  to  go 
alone.  If  she  did  not,  it  would  imply  sus- 
picion (fi  an  honest  soldier.  Walker  might 
also  ask  if  she  had  come  entirely  unattended, 
and  how  could  she  answer  him  ? 

Miss  Hayward  was  naturally  timid,  and 
by  no  means  self-reliant.  When  the  news 
of  the  supposed  death  of  her  brother  reached 
her,  she  was  almost  paralyzed  with  grief. 
But,  now  that  hope  had  filled  her  heart,  she 
began  to  nerve  herself  to  the  task  of  unre- 
mitting search,  even  though  she  must  en- 
counter the  greatest  dangers. 

The  hour  of  twelve  arrived.  Closely 
muflied  in  a  cloak,  she  crept  from  her  tent, 
and  then  paused  to  listen.  She  heard  noth- 
ing, save  the  slow  ami  regular  breathing  of 
the  sleepers,  and  the  violent  beating  of  her 
own  heart.  She  started,  but  her  steps  seemed 
to  fail  her,  and  she  leaned  against  a  tree  for 
support.  The  thoughtflpf  her  dear  brother, 
and  the  probable  unraveMng  o¥  tl^e  mystery 
whidi  surrounded  his  attempteflj^psassina- 
tion,  and  his  present  fate,  gave  her^^ewed 
courage,  .and  she  sped  onward.  In  a  few 
moments  she  had  cleared  the  camp,  and 
arrived  in  the  center  of  the  garden,  where 
stood  the  doomed  man's  prison.  As  she 
nep,f^d  the  door,  the  euard  asked  : 
,    '^  Is  that  you.  Miss  Hayward  ?" 

"  It  is  !"  came  the  low  response. 

"  Approach  and  fear  nothing." 
,  She  had    barely  reached    the    threshold, 
When  two  forms,  darting  from  beneath  the 
hedge,  threw  a  heavy  blanket  over  her  head, 
th]as  entirely  smothering  any  attempt,  on  her 
part,  to  give  the  alarm.     Who  and  what  her 
"Raptors  were,  she  could  not  divine,  or  what 
rdigbt  be  their  purpose.     Strange  to  say,  her 
reason  did  not  forsake  her.     She  felt  her- 
fm  borne  rapidly  along,  but  not  a  word 
was  spoken.     It  appeared  to  her  that  hours 
..pfissed  by,  and  she  even  longed  to  hear  some 
word  uttered  which  might  give  a  clue  to  the 
inllentions  of  those  in  whose  power  she  was, 
or  to  throw  some  light  upon  the  subject,  as 
to  whom  her  captors  were.     The  blanket, 
^vrhich  was  very  heavy,  alitiost  causing  suf- 
focation-, had  been  removed,  and  a  lighter 
one  substituted. 


S8 


THE  PRISONER  OP  THE  MILL. 


At  length  the  parties  halted,  and,  seating 
themselves  upon  the  ground,  the  covering 
was  removed,  and  Miss  Hayward  was  per- 
mitted to  gaze  around  her.  Her  eyes  first 
met  those  of  Captain  Walker.  She  shud- 
dered, and  turned  away.  Then  glancing  at 
his  two  companions,  she  at  once  recognized 
"  ugly  Jim,"  and  a  person  known  in  camp 
as  "  stupid  Dick,"  both  of  whom  had  served 
as  Union  soldiers,  for  a  long  time,  under 
Walker.  As  her  eyes  met  those  of  "  ugly 
Jim,"  she  exclaimed : 

"  Oh  I  you  will  protect  me  ?" 

A  laugh  was  the  only  reply. 

"  I  trust  Miss  Hayward  will  permit  rm  to 
become  her  protector !"  said  Walker,  in  an 
assumed  tone  of  kindness. 

Miss  Hayward  did  not  reply,  but  gazed 
around  her.  She  was  in  a  wild  spot.  She 
was  seated  beside  a  lovely  stream  of  water, 
in  a  deep  valley,  while  high  on  either  hand 
were  ragged  hills  or  mountains.  She  knew 
the  coimtry  for  at  least  ten  or  twelve  miles 
from  Springfield  in  all  directions  was  quite 
level,  and  she  judged  she  must  be  near  the 
Ozark  country,  the  first  range  of  whose 
ridges  she  had  frequently  seen  from  that 
point. 

"  Does  not  the  lovSly  Miss  Hayward  deign 
a  reply  to  her  most  devoted  lover  ?"  asked 
Walker.  ,  •  ' 

"  What  was  your  purpose  in  tearing  me 
from  my  friends,  and  conveying  me  here  ?" 
asked  Miss  Hayward. 

"  A  pardonable  one,  I  think.  My  life 
was  forfeited  in  the  Federal  camp,  and  per- 
sonal interest  required  me  to  depart.  I 
could  not  think  of  leaving  without  you,  and 
so  I  resorted  to  a  little  stratagem.  My  love 
for  you  must  plead  my  excuse." 

"  But  I  have  told  you,  Captain  Walker, 
that  I  could  not  love  you.  Do  you  suppose 
after  what  has  transpired  that  I  could  en- 
tertain any  other  feeling  toward  you  than 
detestation  ?" 

"  I  am  aware  of  that.  But,  when  you 
know  me  better,  I  am  sure  you  will  consent 
to  reward  my  devotion.  I  am  going  to 
convey  you  to  your  brother !" 

"  Then  I  will  thank  you,  at  least !"  ex- 
claimed Miss  Hayward. 

"  Nothing  else  ?" 

She  shuddered. 

"  I  must  be  plain  with  you,"  continued 
Walker.  "  I  am  not  what  I  have  seemed 
to  be  while  with  the  Federals.  I  am  a  col- 
onel in  the  Confederate  army,  but  I  accepted 
a  commission  in  the  so-called  Union  army, 


that  I  might  ftjmish  information  to  my  Gen- 
erals. Or,  if  you  like  the  term  better,  you 
may  call  me  a  spy.  These  two  soldiers 
have  been  with  me  for  the  same  purpose. 
And  Ave  were  not  alone.  There  are  now, 
in  the  army  of  the  Jlississippi,  over  three 
hundred  privates,  and  over  twenty  officers, 
who  jrretend  loyalty  to  the  Federal  cause ; 
and  I  think,  when  his  sister  has  become  the 
wife  of  Captain  Walker,  or  Colonel  Brovra, 
he  may  be  induced  to  join  us !" 

"  Will  you  take  me  to  my  brother?" 

"  On  one  condition,  I  will." 

"  And  this  condition  ?" 

"  !Miss  Hayward,  I  love  you  with  all  the 
ardor  of  my  soul.  You  have  become  neces- 
sary to  my  very  existence — are  a  part  of 
my  life.  When  you  spurned  me,  it  drove 
me  frantic,  and  I  am  so  now.  Beware — oh  ! 
beware  how  you  turn  this  heart,  which  is 
yet  pure,  so  far  as  you  are  concerned,  into 
a  hell  of  furies !  Pity  me  !  Oh  !  dear  Miss 
Hayward,  pity  me !" 

"  But  my  brother — what  of  him  ?" 

"  I  will  tell  3'ou  of  your  brother  when 
you  have  answered  my  questions." 

"  Proceed,  sir!" 

"  Do  not  speak  so  coldly.  I  will  be  frank 
with  you.  Your  brother  is  a  prisoner — not 
in  the  Confederate  camp,  but  in  a  secure 
place,  on  the  very  stream  beside  which  you 
are  now  sitting.  The  murmuring  and  sing- 
ing of  these  very  waters  will,  ere  two  hours, 
greet  his  ears  with  the  same  strain.  War- 
ble those  strains  to  which  I  have  so  often 
listened  while  in  camp,  ahd  which  stirred 
my  soul,  and  they  will  be  borne  direct  to 
your  brother's  hearing,  to  relieve  his  brain 
perhaps  from  the  insanity  which  now  en- 
chains him  1" 

;'  Insanity  !"  echoed  Mamie.  "  My  broth- 
er insane  ?" 

"  He  is  a  raving  maniac !  And  but  one 
thing  can  restore  him  !" 

"  Oh  wretched,  horrible  news  I  What 
can  I  do  to  save  my  brother  ?" 

"  You  are  the  only  person  who  can  save 
him.  Nor  is  the  task  a  hard  one.  Only  a 
few  miles  from  here  is  a  Confederate  camp. 
A  chaplain  is  in  attendance.  He  Avill  per- 
form the  ceremony  which  will  make  you 
irrevocably  and  securely  mine.  Go  with 
me.  Become  my  wife,  and  to-moiTow  I 
will  take  you  to  your  brother,  and  we  will 
not  only  restore  his  shackled  feet  to  liberty, 
but  his  shattered  senses  to  reason.  We 
alone  can  do  it.  Can  you  assume  the  re- 
sponsibility of  a  refusal  ?" 


TWO  ROGUES  FALL  OUT. 


«9 


Miss  Hayward  remained  sileat  for  a  few 
moments,  and  then  gazed  alternately  at  the 
three  villains.  An  unnatural  fire  lit  up  her 
eyes.     At  length  she  said : 

"  Captain  Walker,  I  do  not  know  but  you 
are  even  now  deceiving  me.  You  may  not 
know  any  thing  about  where  my  brother  is." 

"  Ask  these  soldiers,"  replied  Walker. 

Miss  Hayward  turned  her  eyes  upon 
them. 

"  The  captain  speaks  right,"  answered 
Jim.  "  He  does  know  where  your  brother 
is.     He  is  crazy  and  is  chained  in  the — " 

"  Silence  1"  commanded  Walker.  "  Do 
you  believe,  Miss  Mamie  ?" 

"  I  must  believe  the  worst,"  answered 
Miss  Hayward.  "  Soldiers,"  she  added, 
turning  to  the  soldiers,  "  do  you  believe  in 
the  truth  of  Captain  Walker's  profession  of 
love  for  me  ?" 

"  I  should  like  to  know  why  not !"  re- 
plied Jim,  doggedly.  "  Nobody  could  Tielp 
loving  you ;  even  I  loves  you,  but  I  know  it 
ain't  no  use,  and  so  I  don't  say  nothing !" 

"  What  have  pou  to  say  ?"  asked  Mamie, 
turning  to  the  other  soldier. 

"  Lord,  Miss  Mamie,  I  allers  loved  you, 
but  '  stupid  Dick '  never  thinks  of  such  as 
you,  and  so  I  acted  mean  just  to  spite !" 

"  Gentlemen,"  cried  Miss  Hayward,  spring- 
ing to  her  feet,  "  listen  to  me.  You  have 
wronged  me  deeply,  by  aiding  this  wretched 
villain,  yom;  captain,  to  abduct  me.  I  de- 
spise, loathe  him ;  and,  sooner  than  become 
his  wife,  I  would  permit  my  brother  to  die 
as  he  is,  for  I  know  that  he  would  curse  me 
were  I  to  save  him  at  such  a  sacrifice.  It 
will  be  but  death,  and  I  shall  suffer  very  lit- 
tle, for  my  brother's  pure  soul  will  scarce 
have  taken  its  flight,  ere  mine  will  follow !" 

"  Miss  Hayward !" 

"  Silence,  Captain  Walker.  Soldiers,  you 
have  human  hearts,  and  this  man  has  not. 
I  appeal  to  you.  Save  me !  Find  my 
brother  and  return  him  safely,  and  I  prom- 
ise to  pay  you  one  thousand  dollars  each. 
If  I  fail  to  do  this,  I  swear,  by  the  hope  of 
heaven,  that  I  will  become  the  wife  of  one 
of  you,  the  choice  to  be  decided  by  lots  be- 
tween you !" 

These  words  acted  like  an  electric  shock 
upon  the  soldiers.  They  spnmg  to  their 
feet  and  confronted  Walker.  But  he  had 
anticipated  the  effects  of  her  words,  and 
stood  sword  and  revolver  in  hand. 

"  You  would  play  me  false !"  demanded 
Walker,  fiercely. 

"  Guess  I  would  P'  replied  Jim. 


"  Take  that,  then  !"  yelled  Walker. 
The  report  of  a  pistol  echoed  through  the 
valley,  and  Jim  fell  without  so  much  as  a 
groan. 

"  And  how  do  you  decide  ?"  asked  Walk- 
er, turning  and  pointing  his  revolver  toward 
Dick. 

"  I  was  only  goin'  to  help  you.  I  ain't 
no  such  foolish  cuss  as  to  think  of  marry- 
ing a  fine  lady  like  that !     I'm  all  right !" 

"Prove  yourself  so,  and  you  shall  7iave 
your  thousand.  Deceive  me,  and  you  share 
his  fate  I" 

As  Walker  spoke  he  stepped  to  a  clump 
of  thick  bushes,  and  drew  a  small  boat  from 
concealment.  Handing  Miss  Hayward  to  a 
seat,  and  preceded  by  Dick,  Walker  entered, 
and  the  little  craft  swept  gently  along  vsdth 
the  current,  down  the  stream. 

They  had  proceeded  but  a  short  distance, 
when  Miss  Hayward  burst  forth,  and  sung 
a  wild,  thrilling  au',  which  echoed  far  and 
wide,  through  the  valley  and  across  the 
hills.  There  was  something  strangely  beau- 
tiful in  her  song,  and  something  still  more 
strange  in  her  actions.  As  each  strain 
echoed  over  the  hills,  and  gave  back  the 
ringing  notes,  she  would  start,  and  listen  at- 
tentively, and  a  gleam  of  joy  would  lighten 
up  her  pale  face,  upon  which  a  shade  of 
disppointment  would  almost  as  soon  appear. 
Her  hearers  sat  in  silence,  and  in  apparent 
wonder. 

"  Those  words  are  significant !"  exclaim- 
ed Walker. .   "What  is  their  import?" 

"  She's  going  mad,  too,  I  opine !"  ex- 
claimed Dick.     "  Better  let  her  go  !" 

"  Silence !"  cried  Walker.  "  Miss  Hay- 
ward, do  you  think  your  voice  will  penetrate 
his  retreat  ?" 

She  made  no  answer,  but,  as  the  little 
boat  swept  onward,  ever  and  anon  the  same 
words,  and  the  same  wild  music  broke  the 
stillness  of  the  forest,  now  sounding  like  a 
wail  of  sorrow,  and  then  becoming  almost 
hushed  in  hopeful  expectation.     The  words' 
had  the  appearance  of  being  extemporized 
for  the  occasion,  and  were  as  follows : 
Break  those  fetters — I  am  calling- 
Listen  only  to  my  eong ! 
I  am  waiting— loved  one— waiting  I 

I  have  waited — oh,  bo  long ! 
Give  but  one  fond  word  to  cheer  me, 

As  I  pray,  and  hope,  and  weep  I 
Let  thy  echo  say  thon'rt  near  me, 

Aa  my  vigils  thus  I  keep  1 
Echo,  as  along  I  glide, 

This  my  song,  from  thy  retreat, 
And  I'll  bound  to  thy  dear  side  1 

Are  we  e'er  again  to  meet  ? 
Yes,  a  Seraph  from  on  high 
Whispers  to  me,  thou  art  nigh! 
Friends  are  waiting— friends  are  near — 
Dearest  brother— do  not  fear  1 


80 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Pursuit — Tfie  Perilous  Situation — Im- 
portant Information. 

It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  nearly 
two  hours  after  Miss  HajTvard  had  been 
seized,  and  borne  from  the  camp  by  "Walker 
and  his  confederates.  The  guard  relief  had 
commenced  his  rounds.  The  first  post  vis- 
ited was  that  in  front  of  the  door  where 
Walker  had  been  confined.  A  glance  re- 
vealed the  prisoner's  escape.  The  chain 
which  had  secured  the  door  was  lying  upon 
the  steps,  and  the  door  itself  was  slightly 
ajar.  Walker  and  both  the  sentinels  had 
disappeared.  The  "  long  roll "  was  at  once 
beaten,  and  the  camp  aroused.  Scarce  had 
the  lines  been  formed  when  it  was  announced 
that  Miss  Hayward  also  had  disappeared. 
The  grief  of  her  friends,  and  the  rage  of 
the  soldiers  knew  no  bounds,  and  many  was 
the  oath  of  a  terrible  retribution  uttered 
against  the  fiend  who  had  spread  such  des- 
olation and  sorrow  in  her  path. 

It  was  but  a  few  moments  before  squads 
of  cavalry  were  dashing  in  every  direction 
in  pursuit.  There  was  but  little  doubt  as 
to  how  the  escape  had  been  eff'ected.  The 
disappearance  of  the  guard  convinced  all 
that  they  were  in  league  with  Walker,  but 
in  what  manner  they  had  gained  possession 
of  Miss  Hayward  was  a  mystery.  No  one 
had  detected  any  thing  unusual  in  her  man- 
ner the  evening  before,  and  she  had  retired 
at  her  usual  hour. 

It  was  thought,  however,  that  the  parties 
would  not  have  taken  any  main  road,  as 
the  pickets  would  have  given  the  alarm. 
They  could  not  have  had  more  than  two 
hours  the  start,  as  ev^ry  thing  was  all  right 
when  the  twelve  o'clock  relief  went  on 
post,  and  at  two  o'clock  the  escape  was  dis- 
covered. If  Walker  had  to  walk  through 
the  fields  in  order  to  avoid  the  pickets,  it 
would  take  at  least  two  hours  to  clear  them. 
It  was  most  likely  that,  once  outside  the 
lines,  friends  and  horses  would  be  procured. 
Still,  the  distance  would  not  be  so  great  but 
that  our  horsemen  hoped  to  overtake  them, 
and  so  they  set  off  with  a  good  will  in  va- 
rious directions. 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  accompany  us  ?" 
asked  Lieutenant  Wells,  of  Nettleton,  who 
was  seated  upon  the  grovmd,  looking  gloomy 
and  sullen. 

"  Not  by  a  dam  sight  I"  answered  Net- 
tleton,  doggedly. 

"  And  why  not  ?"  asked  Wells. 


"  You  go  'long,  and  let  me  alone  1"  he  an- 
swered, sharply. 

There  was  no  tune  for  words,  and  the 
squadron  departed. 

The  night  passed,  dming  which  Nettle- 
ton  was  bitter  in  his  self-reproach  for  not 
watching  closer,  and  would  not  hold  con- 
versation with  any  person.  As  the  first 
dawn  of  day  became  visible,  Xettleton  was 
seen  crawling  upon  his  hands  and  knees,  in 
front  of  the  former  prison  of  Walker,  and 
through  the  garden,  toward  tlie  west.  His 
movements  were  watched  with  considerable 
interest,  as  all  had  begim  to  respect  him  for 
his  sagacity,  in  his  peculiar  way.  At  length 
he  returned  to  his  tent,  and,  without  speak- 
ing, carefully  examined  his  double-barrel 
shot  gun — a  beautiful  piece  which  he  had 
picked  up  upon  the  Wilson  creek  battle- 
ground, and  had  been  permitted  to  retain. 
This  he  loaded ;  then,  taking  a  large  ar- 
tilleiy  ammunition-bag,  he  went  directly  to 
the  tent  of  Adjutani  Hmton.  Removing 
the  lid  of  a  minnie-ball  ammunition-box, 
he  filled  this  pouch  with  cartridges.  His 
next  move  was  to  place  some  provision  in 
his  haversack ;  then  he  started. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  William  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  Hinton. 

"Them  boots!"  he  replied,  pointing  in 
the  direction  he  had  just  taken  in  his  hands- 
and-knees  examination. 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 
"  Why,  them  boots  as  Tiad  two  hearts  on  the 
soles  went  tluit  way,  and  I'm  going  to  fol- 
low if  I  go  to  thunder !"  He  waited  to  hear 
no  more,  or  to  speak  more,  but  bounded  off 
to  the  westward. 

He  had  been  gone  perhaps  an  hour,  when 
Fall-leaf,  the  Indian  scout  already  referred 
to,  entered  the  camp.  He  was  soon  made 
aware  of  the  state  of  things.  Fall-leaf  was 
deeply  attached  to  Captain  Hayward,  and, 
more  especially  so  to  his  fair  sister,  Mamie. 
The  scout  had  been  but  a  short  time  in 
camp,  when  he  had  given  to  the  General 
all  the  information  he  possessed  with  regard 
to  the  enemy.  This  done,  he  followed  on 
the  trail  fast  as  possible. 

For  several  hours  Nettleton  kept  on  his 
course,  now  striking  the  main  road  for  the 
purpose  of  searching  for  fresh  tracks,  then 
taking  to  the  woods  again,  to  avoid  obser- 
vation. Several  times  he  came  upon  the 
well-known  footprints,  and  a  bitter  exclama- 
tion would  escape  him.  He  kept  his  course, 
more  from  the  judgment  he  had  formed  as 
to  the  direction  Walker  had  taken,  than  from 


NETTLETON  AND  FALL-LEAP  ON  THE  TRAIL. 


81 


the  numerous  impressions  of  his  boots.  He 
was  ascending  a  sharp  and  ragged  hill, 
so  heavily  covered  with  the  thorn-bush  and 
small  scrub-oak  peculiar  to  that  countiy, 
that  his  progress  was  rendered  very  difficult. 
Suddenly  a  figure  darted  in  front  of  him 
and  concealed  itself  among  the  thick  under- 
growth. Nettleton  brought  his  gun  to  the 
shoulder,  and  called  out : 

"  None  of  that  skulking,  darn  ye !  Come 
out  and  fight  fair  I" 

"  Ugh !"  responded  the  voice,  and  Fall- 
leaf  bounded  to  his  side. 

"  Oh  1  it's  you,  is  it,  Mr.  Ingen  ?  Well,  I'm 
darn  glad  you've  come,  for  you  can  hunt  these 
snarly  woods  better  than  me !     Any  news  ?" 

"  You  kill  'em— eh  ?" 

"  I  shall  kill  'em,  if  I  only  get  a  bead  on 
the  critter !" 

"You  did  kill 'emV 

"  Kill  who  ?" 

"Dead  soldier — there!"  Fall-leaf  indi- 
cated that  he  meant  further  on. 

"  Come  on,  Ingen,"  said  Nettleton.  He 
reached  the  summit  of  the  hill  which  over- 
looked the  valley  below,  and,  led  by  Fall- 
leaf,  began  its  descent.  They  soon  reached 
the  stream,  and  the  Indian  pointed  to  the 
dead  body.  Nettleton  gazed  upon  it  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  said : 

"  Darn  me  if  it  ain't  the  very  feller  what 
run  away  last  night.  Walker  has  been  here, 
sure !" 

He  commenced  his  search  at  once.  He 
found  footprints  in  the  sand,  and  among 
them  that  of  a  lady,  judging  from  its  small 
size.  The  Indian  had  also  been  taking  ob- 
servations. Returning  from  a  clump  of 
bushes,  he  said  to  Nettleton : 

"  See — canoe — two — White  Bird — so  1" 

Here  Fall-leaf  indicated  by  action,  that 
two  men  had  drawn  a  boat  from  conceal- 
ment in  the  thicket,  had  entered  it,  as  indi- 
cated by  tracks  in  the  sand,  and  had  pro- 
ceeded down-stream. 

"  Well,  they've  got  rid  of  one  scoundrel, 
any  way.  It  will  only  be  man  to  man,  and 
I  feel  myself  to  be  a  match  for  any  dozen 
such  slamks  as  that  Walker.  They  can't 
have  much  the  start !" 

Both  Fall-leaf  and  Nettleton  walked  rap- 
idly forward  along  the  bank  of  the  stream. 
At  length — and  it  was  almost  a  simultane- 
ous movement  on  the  part  of  each — they 
stopped,  and  bending  forward,  held  their 
ears  close  to  the  ground. 

"By  thimderl"  cried  Nettleton,  "that's 
Tier  voice  1" 


"  White  Bird  caged — she  no  sing  1"  replied 
Fall-leaf. 

"  Ain't  you  a  dam  fool?  Don't  you  know 
that  White  Bird,  as  you  call  her,  has  got  a 
right  to  expect  some  of  her  friends  will  be 
after  her,  and  so  she  sings  that  they  may 
hear  her  voice,  echoing  up  and  down 
among  these  hills,  and  know  where  to  find 
her  ?" 

"  Ugh  !  good — white  hunter  no  fool !" 

Again  the  voice  was  heard,  and  this  time 
so  clearly  as  to  leave  no  doubt  upon  the 
mmd  of  our  hero,  as  to  who  the  singer  was. 
Like  a  deer  he  bounded  off  in  the  direction 
indicated.  The  music  died  away  and  all 
was  still.     But  the  two  men  paused  not. 

Upon  a  sudden  they  emerged  into  an  open 
field  of  about  four  acres,  near  the  center  of 
which  were  two  large  stacks  of  hay.  The 
river  at  this  point  took  a  bend,  and  the  two 
pursuers  struck  directly  across  the  open 
■space.  Just  as  they  reached  the  stacks, 
Fall-leaf  darted  close  in  to  the  base  of  one 
of  them,  taking  the  attitude  of  a  listener, 
and  making  a  significant  sign  to  Nettleton. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  Nettleton. 

"Harkl  Soldiers!  Horses!  Whoa!  Hark!" 

Nettleton  listened  attentively,  and  then 
said: 

"  There  is  a  party  of  soldiers  coming.  It 
7nay  be  our  men  who  have  been  in  search 
of  Miss —  of  the  White  Bird  ;  but,  it  is  well 
enough  to  keep  close.  It  may  be  the  rebels 
merely  moving  camp.  And  if  this  is  so, 
Mamie  must  be  with  them.  The  sounds 
are  coming  nearer — crawl  under  the  hay, 
red-skin — way  imder,  out  of  sight." 

This  was  effected  with  some  difficulty, 
when  a  party  of  rebel  guerrillas,  nmnbering 
about  sixty,  rode  into  the  field,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  form  their  camp  directly  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  hay-stacks,  under  which  the 
two  men  were  concealed. 

"  Well,  I  guess  we've  got  into  the  right 
shop!"  said  Nettleton  to  Fall-leaf.  Wears 
cooped  up  here  close  enough  for  a  while, 
but,  Miss  Mamie  must  be  with  this  crowd, 
and  when  dark  comes,  we  can  scout  around 
and  see  what  we  can  do.  Lay  quiet,  Ingen !" 

"  White  hunter  knows !  Make  good  In- 
gen 1" 

The  day  dragged  slowly  away.  Toward 
night  a  party  of  the  rebels  came  for  forage 
for  their  horses,  but  the  hay  was  tumbled 
from  the  top  of  the  stack,  and  our  friends 
were  not  discovered.  The  guerrillas'  con- 
versation, however,  was  listened  to  with  the 
greatest  interest  by  Nettleton. 


32 


THE  PRISONER  OP  THE  illLL. 


"  So  Colonel  Brown,  or  "Walker,  as  he  is 
called,  came  within  one  of  being  done  for 
in  the  camp  of  the  Yanks  at  Springfield  ?" 

"  Yes,  so  he  says." 

"  What  the  devil  does  he  want  with  the 
gal?" 

"  Oh,  some  love  affair,  of  course." 

"  The  gal  was  happy,  for  she  was  singing 
like  a  nightingale." 

"  Oh  yes  I  No  doubt  she  was  dazzled  by 
the  prospect  of  being  a  colonel's  wife." 

"  Who  is  she  ?" 

"  Don't  know." 

"  My  eyes  !  but  she  is  a  beauty !" 

"  So  much  the  better  for  him." 

"  Where  was  he  going  with  her  ?" 

"  Oh,  below — taking  her  to  her  brother, 
I  believe." 

"  Where  is  that  ?" 

"Down  in  the  old  mill/" 

This  was  all  the  conversation  heard  by 
the  adventurers.  But,  the  rebel  troops  diii 
not  move  again  until  late  in  the  next  day, 
and  our  friends  were  compelled  to  remain 
quiet.  They  had  learned  sufficient  to  con- 
vince them  that  Miss  Hayward  was  not  with 
this  band  of  rebels,  but  was  being  borne 
still  ftirther  from  them.  They  cursed  the 
chance  which  had  thus  entrapped  them,  and 
prevented  their  overtaking  the  captive  at 
once.  Still,  they  resolved  to  keep  up  the 
pursuit,  and  they  had  learned  that  at  some 
mill  the  lady  was  to  be  conveyed,  and  that 
her  brother  was  there.  Patiently  they 
■waited  until  they  could  emerge,  and  finish 
their  journey. 


CHAPTER  X. 
Hayward. 

It  is  time  the  reader  was  enlightened, 
somewhat,  as  to  the  fate  of  Captain  Hay- 
ward. 

The  wound  he  had  received  the  night  of 
the  attempted  assassination,  was  severe,  but 
by  no  means  fatal.  The  loss  of  blood  had 
rendered  him  very  weak,  and  for  some  time 
he  remained  insensible. 

At  the  moment  the  blow  was  inflicted, 
there  was,  upon  the  other  bank  of  the  river, 
and  watching  the  Federals,  a  squad  of  rebel 
cavalry  scouts.  The  water  into  which  Hay- 
ward was  thrown  soon  revived  the  wounded 
man.  He  was  seen  by  thip  band,  and  car- 
ried to  the  house  of  an  officer  of  the  Con- 
federate  army,  not  half  a  mile  from  the 


spot.  Here  his  wound  was  dressed.  It  ■was 
not  long  before  an  order  reached  them, 
signed  by  "  Colonel  Brown,"  to  convey  him 
to  the  camp  of  Colonel  Price,  at  Ozark. 
This  order  was  law,  and  immediately  after 
the  Federals  left  Grand  Prairie,  a  boat  was 
procured,  and  Hayward  placed  in  it.  But 
half  conscious,  he  reached  the  Ozark  bridge 
at  the  critical  juncture  already  described  in 
the  chapter  referring  to  the  interview  between 
Nettie  Morton  and  Charles  Campbell,  and 
the  interruption  by  Colonel  Price,  the  rescue 
of  Nettie  by  Fall-leaf,  the  approach  of  the 
Union  forces,  and  the  resolve  of  Charles 
Campbell  to  save  the  wounded  captain. 

It  was  at  the  moment  when  Price  was  in 
pursuit  of  the  Indian  that  Campbell,  tjiking 
advantage  of  his  absence,  and  observing  the 
approach  of  the  Federals,  hastily  penned 
the  note  previously  referred  to  and  then 
pushed  ofi"  with  the  boat,  down  the  stream, 
in  order  to  effect  his  escape  with  the  pris- 
oner. 

He  began  to  hope  that  success  would 
crown  his  eflforts.  The  battle  flivored  his 
flight.  All  that  day  and  the  night  follow- 
ing, he  pursued  his  course.  It  was  his  pur- 
pose to  follow  the  Gasconade  until  he  had 
reached  the  point  nearest  Rolla,  where  he 
supposed  he  would  be  free  from  tlie  roving 
bands  of  rebels,  who  were  so  numerous  in 
the  vicinity  of  Springfield.  But  his  hopes 
were  doomed  to  disappointment.  Colonel 
Price,  anticipating  the  direction  he  had 
taken,  immediately  dispatched  one  Lieuten- 
ant Lewis,  a  most  tireless  wretch,  with  a 
squad  of  ten  men,  to  intercept  Campbell, 
and  the  prisoner  captain. 

Just  as  the  morning  dawned,  Campbell 
saw  the  pursuing  party  approaching.  Pull- 
ing for  the  shore,  he  lifted  Captain  Hay- 
ward in  his  arms,  and  bore  him  into  a  mill, 
which  stood  near  at  hand.  There  he  quick- 
ly concealed  his  charge  in  an  upper  loft, 
and  returned  to  meet  the  rebels.  He  stated 
he  had  been  captured  by  a  party  of  the 
Federals  and  conveyed  to  that  point,  and 
that  they  had  there  released  him  upon  his 
parole  of  honor.  This  story  was  generally 
believed,  although  one  of  the  band  appeared 
to  be  incredulous,  and  left  his  fellows  for  a 
pretended  search.  Not  observing  his  ab- 
sence, the  remainder  of  the  rebel  band  re- 
turned without  him,  taking  care,  however, 
that  Campbell  was  not  left  behind. 

When  this  person  entered  the  mill,  he 
found  Hayward  leaning  upon  his  elbow, 
quite  conscious,  but  too  weak  to  move.     He 


BOHANNAN'S  MILL  AND  OLD  MADGE. 


33 


paused  before  the  -wounded  man,  and  was 
silent.     Ilayward  saw,  and  recognized  him. 

"  Are  friends  near  ?"  was  liis  feeble  ques- 
tion. 

"  I  am  the  only  friend  you  have  got  in 
these  parts,  and  I  reckon  as  how  '  ugly  Jim ' 
ain't  just  the  man  you  want  to  see  !" 

"  You  are  one  of  my  own  men !"  re- 
turned Hayward. 

"  That's  a  p'int  as  will  admit  of  some  ar- 
gument, as  the  lawyers  say  1  I  may  be  your. 
man  when  I  am  in  Springfield,  but  you  are 
my  man  now  !  So  don't  kick  up  any  fuss, 
and  after  I  have  made  you  fast,  I'll  tell  you 
the  rest.  Ha,  ha  I"  he  muttered  to  himself, 
"  but  Walker  shall  pay  me  well  for  this  /" 

Saying  this  the  rebel  rascal  left  the  mill. 
Not  far  from  tliis  mill,  in  a  wretched  log- 
hut,  lived  an  old  woman,  who  gloried  in  the 
title  of  "  crazy  Madge,"  and  of  whom  the 
rude  backwoods  people  of  the  vicinity  stood 
in  fear,  as  it  was  almost  universally  believed 
among  them  that  she  was  possessed  of  the 
devil.  She  told  fortunes  with  great  correct- 
ness, and  employed  the  most  singular  modes 
in  doing  this,  such  as  burning  powder  and 
strange  incense,  and  the  uttering  of  fearful 
imprecations,  and  unearthly  sounds. 

The  mill  was  owned  by  one  Bohannan, 
a  captain  of  Confederate  guerrillas.  Since 
the  commencement  of  the  war,  it  had  not 
been  in  operation,  except  on  rare  occasions. 
About  one  mile  above  Bohannan's  mill, 
there  was  another  mill,  of  smaller  dimen- 
sions, which  had  formerly  been  0'v\Tied  by  a 
thorough  Union  man,  who,  becoming  a 
refugee,  had  abandoned  this  mill,  also.  So 
when  the  residents  in  that  region,  or  any  of 
the  straggling  rebel  bands,  had  occasion  to 
grind  their  grain,  they  always  went  to  the 
upper  mill,  more  especially  as  it  was  be- 
lieved that  "  crazy  Madge  "  had  taken  full 
possession  of  the  lower  one  after  its  propri- 
etor left,  and  that,  being  occupied  in  sacri- 
legious rites,  it  was  very  generally  believed 
to  be  unsafe  to  venture  in  that  vicinity. 
Even  the'  most  reckless  and  hardy  of  the 
guerrillas  held  the  spot  in  awe,  and  avoided 
it  at  all  times. 

Madge  was  seated  in  her  own  door  when 
Campbell  entered  the  mill  with  Hayward  in 
his  arms.  She  watched  him  closely,  but 
uttered  no  word.  She  saw  him  emerge, 
and  meet  the  rebel  band.  She  watched  their 
departure,  and  then  discovered  the  new- 
comer, "  Grouse  Green,"  as  he  was  known. 
When  he  came  forth  from  the  mill,  Madge 
Still  was  seated  in  the  cabin  doorway, 
9  8 


smoking  her  pipe.  She  did  not  even  raise 
her  eyes,  or  pretend  the  least  consciousness 
of  his  presence,  until,  with  a  rude  slap  upon 
her  shoulder,  he  said : 

"  Come,  old  woman,  I  want  you !" 

The  old  creature  pretended  not  the  least 
surprise,  but,  raising  her  snake-like  eyes  to 
those  of  the  speaker,  she  said : 

"  Does  the  son  of  Belial  wish  to  know 
his  fate  ?  I  need  not  the  aid  of  my  magic 
charms  to  point  it  out  to  me.  In  less  than 
a  month,  the  most  horrible  death — " 

"  Bah,  you  old  crone !  I'd  dash  your 
brains  out  for  a  copper,'  you  infernal  croak- 
ing old  buzzard  !  I  don't  come  to  have  my 
fortune  told,  but  I  want  you  to  serve  me, 
and  you  shall  have  gold — do  you  hear,  old 
woman  ?  No  fooling  now,  and  gold  is 
yours !" 

"  Gold  !  It  is  the  master-key  to  human 
hearts  !     And  what  am  I  to  do  for  gold  ?" 

"  My  biddiiig  !  First,  I  want  a  set  of 
chains !  Have  you  such  things  in  your  in- 
fernal den  ?" 

"  You  can  have  them  for  gold !"  she  ex- 
claimed, tottering  to  a  closet,  and  rattling 
the  cold  iron.  "  I  always  keep  them — it  is 
necessary  to  my  trade  !" 

"  Now  for  the  bargain,  old  hag.  You 
saw  me  enter  that  mill  just  now  ?  Well, 
there  is  a  captain  confined,  or  will  be  con- 
fined before  I  leave  him,  in  the  upper  loft. 
He  will  be  fastened.  You  must  feed  him 
daily,  just  enough  to  keep  life  in  him.  I 
will  give  you  a  hundred  to  start  upon — 
more  money  than  you  ever  saw,  old  woman, 
and  when  I  return,  if  you  have  well  done 
your  duty  as  keeper,  I  will  give  you  another 
hundred.  Will  you  be  faithful  and  keep 
the  prisoner  in  safety  from  rescue  ?" 

"  I  swear  it  by  my  magic  art !" 

"  Bah  !  blast  your  art !  Swear  it  by  the 
gold  you  will  receive,  and  I'll  believe  you. 
But  come !" 

Green  reentered  the  mill  followed  by  old 
Madge.  He  seized  the  helpless  Hayward 
and  bore  him  to  an  upper  loft.  There  he 
fettered  him  with  the  chains. 

"  And  now  I  shall  leave  you  here  until 
we  can  attend  to  you  at  a  more  convenient 
time  I"  he  muttered,  as  he  gazed  exultingly 
upon  Hayward.  He  was  about  to  leave  him 
alone. 

"  Stay  but  a  moment !"  cried  the  wound- 
ed man.     "  Tell  me  of  my  sister !" 

"  She  has  become  the  wife  of  Colonel 
Brown,  of  the  Confederate  anny,  or,  as  you 
know  him,  Captain  Walker,  of  the  Federals  l" 


34 


THE  PRISONER  OP  THE  MILL. 


"  Liar  !"  cried  Hayward.  "  But  no  !  I 
will  not  use  such  terms  now.  Do  you 
know  who  struck  the  blow  which  so  nearly 
deprived  me  of  life  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  it  was  William  Nettleton  !  He  is 
also  enlisted  in  the  service  of  Walker.  And 
I  will  tell  you  more.  In  two  days  after  }'ou 
disappeared,  Lieutenant  Wells  was  hung  for 
your  murder.  Your  sister  fled  with  Walk- 
er, who  pretended  the  greatest  friendship 
for  her.  /  performed  the  ceremony,  and  to- 
night they  are  not  three  miles  from  you." 

Hayward  had  become  insensible,  and 
sunk  to  the  floor.  Green  saw  this,  and  mo- 
tioning to  the  old  woman,  they  left  him 
alone. 

"  That  is  the  game  I  want  you  to  play  !" 
said  Green,  as  they  emerged  from  the  mill. 
"  Of  course,  all  I  have  told  him  is  ftxlse. 
But  I  want  you  to  carry  it  out,  feecause 
Colonel  Price  wishes  it  as  well  as  Walker, 
and  as  he  is  a  most  dangerous  man  to  our 
cause,  I  don't  care  how  poorly  he  gets  along. 
It  would  be  a  good  thing  for  us  if  he  could 
never  take  the  field  again.  So  see  that  you 
do  your  duty !" 

Madge  received  her  money,  and  agreed 
to  follow  all  the  instructions  he  h^d  given 
her. 

Green  now  returned  at  once  to  the  camp, 
and  reported  to  Walker.  It  was  just  be- 
fore the  decision  of  the  court-martial  had 
been  given,  and  that  oflScer  was  free,  not 
only  from  restraint,  but  from  any  thing 
which  had,  as  yet,  assumed  a  definite  form. 
He  was  delighted  with  the  intelligence,  and 
resolved  to  take  advantage  of  it  soon  as 
Wells  could  be  thoroughly  crushed. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The,  Priso7i — TTie  Wieel-roain — Caged — I7ie 
Life  and  Death  Struggle. 

We  left  Miss  Hayward  in  the  little  boat, 
in  the  custody  of  Walker  and  stupid  Dick. 
For  several  hours  they  sped  rapidly  onward 
with  the  stream.  They  encoimtered  the 
party  of  rebels  of  which  we  have  made 
mention,  but,  as  Walker,  or  Colonel  Brown, 
was  the  officer  highest  in  rank,  no  one  at- 
tempted to  interfere  with  his  project.  The 
boat  kept  its  course  until  it  came  upon  a 
broad  flat  which  appeared  to  be  some  fire 
or  six  miles  in  length,  and  perhaps  one  in 
breadth.  This,  Walker  informed  Miss  Hay- 
ward,  was  the  "  Valley  of  Bohannan  I" 


"  And,"  said  he,  "  your  brother  is  confined 
in  yonder  mill !" 

3Iiss  Hayward  gazed  a  moment  upon  the 
structure,  and  then  burst  forth  in  the  same 
wild  strain  she  had  sung  so  frequently  dur- 
ing her  boat  voyage. 

"  It  is  folly  for  you  to  attempt  to  attract, 
his  notice  by  your  voice.     He   is  a  clo3<f 
prisoner  and  a  maniac,  and  nothing  but  yodr 
constant  presence    and    attention  will  ever 
cause  his  reason  to  return  !" 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do  with  him 
and  myself?"  asked  Miss  Hayward. 

"  I  intend  to  take  you  to  your  brother. 
I  intend  to  let  you  sec  him  in  a  wretched 
garret,  with  no  hope  of  recovery,  or  of  even 
life.  Unless  you  come  to  his  aid.  I  intend 
to  permit  you  to  gaze  upon  this  scene,  but 
not  even  to  speak  with  your  brother,  or  to 
assist  him  in  any  manner,  until  j-ou  are  my 
wife.  Then  you  sliall  be  free  to  attend  to 
all  his  wants,  to  provide  for  his  comfort,  to 
restore  him  to  reason,  to  life  and  to  liberty." 

Miss  Hayward  bent  her  head  upon  her 
liands  and  wept. 

"  I  will  not  ask  for  your  final  decision 
now !"  continued  Walker.  "  I  will  wait 
until  you  have  seen  your  brother,  which 
will  be  in  a  few  moments." 

The  boat  was  drawn  to  the  shore,  and 
Walker,  turning  to  Dick,  said : 

"  I  will  dispense  with  you  now.  Go  to 
Joe's  farm.  Follow  my  instructions  as  to 
storing  the  house  with  provisions,  and  at 
least  one  comfortable  bed.  Miss  Hayward, 
it  is  a  beautiful  place  of  which  I  speak,  and, 
in  case  of  your  refusal  to  perform  all  that  I 
wish  voluntarily,  or  to  save  your  brother,  I 
shall  be  compelled  to  take  advantage  of  a 
friend's  mansion,  in  case  I  can  not  eff'ect  my 
escape  with  you  to  Arkansas.  This  I  doubt 
being  able  to  do,  and  more,  I  don't  know 
that  I  shall  run  the  risk,  as  I  am  only  a 
subordinate,  and  some  of  my  superiors  might 
order  your  release.  You  perceive  that  I  in- 
tend to  make  sure  of  my  prize  now  that 
she  is  in  my  keeping.  As  my  wife  she  will 
be  permitted  all  proper  liberty,  but  until 
you  are  such,  by  j-our  own  voluntary  act, 
I  must  keep  you  safely  from  approach  by 
any  one." 

Dick  had  left;  his  master.  Walker  and 
Miss  HayT\-ard  arrived  at  the  log-hut  adjoin- 
ing the  mill,  and  entered  it.  Old  Madge 
was  there,  but  she  looked  pale  •  and  frigh^ 
ened. 

"  Come  here,  Madge.  What  is  the  mair 
ter?"  asked  Walker. 


I 


WALKER  AND  HIS  CAPTIVE  AT  THE  1,nJLL. 


85 


"  The  devil's  broke  loose  !"  replied  Madge, 
trembling  violently. 

"  Come,  don't  be  alarmed  ;  I  am  Walker. 
I  am  the  one  who  sent  you  the  lumdred 
dollars  to  keep  the  man  safely.  You  have 
done  so,  I  hope." 

"  He  has  just  broke  loose,  and  run  into 
the  woods." 

"  How  did  that  happen  ?" 

"  Oh,  he  heard  a  voice  singing  outside, 
and,  in  his  fever  delirium,  said  it  was  an 
angel  calling  him  to  heaven,  and  he  burst 
from  his  room  and  rushed  up  yonder." 

Walker  and  the  old  woman  conversed 
together  in  undertones  for  a  few  moments, 
when  he  turned  to  Miss  Hayward  and 
said : 

"  Your  brother,  in  his  delirium,  broke  his 
chains,  and  is  at  large  in  the  mountains. 
He  wiU  not  return  here,  and  I  think  it 
doubtful  if  I  can  find  him.  He  will,  most 
likely,  make  his  way  to  the  Federal  camps. 
But,  come  with  me ;  you  shall  see  where 
he  was  confined,  and  then  learn  my  further 
intentions." 

Walker  seized  the  unresisting  maiden  by 
the  arm,  and  drew  her  into  the  mill.  Up 
the  dirty  stairs  she  went,  and  finally  entered 
the  room,  or  attic,  where  the  unfortunate 
brother  had  been  detained  prisoner.  She 
shuddered  as  she  gazed  around  her. 

*'  Now,"  said  Walker,  "  I  will  show  you 
your  room — one  you  shall  occupy  untU  you 
are  Mrs.  Colonel  Brown." 

He  drew  her  still  further  on,  and  opened 
a  massive  door,  which  grated  upon  its  hinges. 
She  gazed  in.  It  was  a  small  apartment 
into  which  the  carpenter  usually  entered 
when  he  wished  to  repair  the  great  water- 
wheel  which  set  the  mill  in  motion.  This 
room,  or  rather  aperture,  was  of  construc- 
tion unlike  any  apartment  intended  for  oc- 
cupancy. There  was  a  platform  about  ten 
feet  in  width,  which  formed  the  only  floor- 
ing. Then  a  great  opening  beyond,  through 
which  the  main  wheel  extended  upward 
about  eight  or  ten  feet,  entirely  filling  the 
opening  in  the  floor.  Any  man  confined 
in  this  apartment  would  find  little  diflBculty 
in  effecting  his  escape,  provided  he  was  an 
expert  swimmer,  and  the  mill  not  in  motion. 
But  the  manner  in  which  an  escape  must  be 
^fiflected  would  be  as  follows  : 

When  the  mill  was  running,  the  wheel 
being  then  in  motion,  the  water  was  thrown 
in  large  quantities  in  every  part  of  the 
room,  and  its  inmate  could  scarcely  prevent 
drowning  by  catching  his  breath  at  inter- 


vals. To  attempt  to  spring  into  the  wheel 
— which  was  formed  something  like  the 
wheel  of  a  wagon,  the  rim,  or  tire,  however, 
being  about  twenty  feet  in  breadth,  Mith 
crevices,  or  brackets,  for  catching  the  water 
which  propelled  it,  and  the  braces  answer- 
ing as  spokes  bearing  proportion  to  the  rim 
— would  almost  assuredly  be  dashed  in 
pieces  in  the  attempt  to  gain  the  interior. 
But,  once  there,  he  would  be  whirled  round 
and  round  until  he  could  gather  his  energies 
for  a  jump  when  that  portion  of  the 
wheel  in  which  he  was  perched  was  down, 
or  nearest  the  bed  of  the  stream.  To  leap 
out  into  the  river  would  be  a  task  equally 
perilous  to  that  of  springing  in.  When  the 
wheel  was  not  in  motion,  one  could  step 
into  the  opening,  slide  down  the  rim  with 
great  ease,  spring  into  the  water,  and  gain 
the  shore  in  a  moment. 

Miss  Hayward  gazed  into  this  room  or 
vault  with  a  ftiinting,  sickening  sensation; 
but  she  did  not  speak.  It  appeared  as  if 
hope  had  almost  left;  her  heart,  now  that 
1  she  found  her  brother  gone,  and  she  nerved 
herself  for  any  fate  that  might  overtake  her. 

It  wasj*  as  we  have  stated,  late  in  the 
afternoon  before  the  rebels  encamped  aroimd 
the  stack  where  Nettleton  and  Fall-leaf 
were  secreted,  took  their  dei^arture,  and  up 
to  that  time  the  two  faithful  pursuers  were 
miable  to  venture  forth.  At  last  all  was 
safe,  and  they  emerged  from  theu*  conceal- 
ment, and  gazed  around  them.  No  living 
person  was  to  be  seen.  A  meal  was  hastily 
prepared,  after  partaking  of  which  they  re- 
sumed their  journey  at  a  rapid  rate.  AU 
night  they  plodded  along,  taking  care  to  see 
that  no  mill  was  passed  upon  the  route. 
As  the  morning  dawned,  they  found  them- 
selves in  an  open  space  of  considerable  ex- 
tent, and  close  by  the  stream  was  a  mill. 
This  was  carefully  examined  in  every  nook 
and  corner;  but  nothing  was  found.  They 
made  inquiry  of  a  woman  living  in  a  cabin 
near  the  spot,  and  learned  that,  a  mUe  fur- 
ther on,  was  another  mill  of  larger  dimen- 
sions, belonging  to  one  Bohannan.  For 
this  place  thej'  immediately  bent  their  steps. 
Arriving,  they  were  met  by  old  Madge,  who 
immediately  commenced  her  mummeries  in 
order  to  divert  their  attention.  The  Indian 
gazed  upon  her  a  moment,  as  if  half  in  awe, 
and  half  in  fear,  but  Nettleton  did  not  pause, 
and  exclaimed : 

"  Come  along,  Ingen ;  I  expect  here's  the 
place." 


36 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MU.L. 


They  entered  the  mill.  The  Indian  re- 
mained at  the  door  to  prevent  any  egress, 
while  Nettleton  commenced  his  search.  Up 
and  dowai,  high  and  low,  the  search  was 
prosecuted. 

Walker  being  then  within,  had  observed 
the  approach  of  Nettleton  and  the  Indian. 
His  first  impulse  was  to  fire  upon  them  ; 
but  he  knew  if  his  aim  proved  inaccurate 
he  might  then  bid  adieu  to  life,  and  so  he 
resolved  to  resort  to  stratagem.  He  seized 
Miss  Hayward  and  sprung  into  a  wheat-bin, 
close  by  the  door  of  the  wheel-room  we 
have  described.  He  soon  buried  himself 
and  his  prisoner  among  a  lot  of  old  bags, 
husks  and  refuse,  and  cautioned  her  to 
remain  quiet,  as  a  band  of  Kansas  cut- 
throats, who  regarded  neither  the  life  or 
person  of  a  pretty  woman,  were  at  hand. 
This  had  the  effect  to  keep  lliss  Hayward 
quiet. 

JSTettleton  had  completed  his  search.  The 
lower  floor  of  the  "mill  had  been  carefully 
scrutinized — its  closets,  its  bins — except  the 
small  one  near  the  wheel-room,  which  had 
escaped  his  notice. 

"  I  wonder  if  there  is  any  thing  lincler 
the  mill  ?"  queried  Nettleton.  "  I'll,  call,  and 
see  if  that  does  any  good.  Captain  !  Cap- 
tain Hayward !" 

The  voice  was  at  once  recognized  by 
lliss  Haywiard,  who  vainly  struggled  to 
reply;  but  "Walker  held  a  handkerchief  so 
tightly  over  her  mouth  that  she  could  pro- 
duce no  sound.  At  length,  by  a  desperate 
efibrt,  she  removed  his  hand  and  shrieked : 

"  Here,  William  !  here  !" 

"  Where  ?  where  ?"  cried  William-,  as  he 
sprung  toward  the  bin. 

"  In  tlie  wlieel-i-dayn  /"  yelled  Walker, 
smothering  his  voice  so  far  as  to  drown  the 
exact  direction  in  which  it  came. 

Nettleton  bounded  into  the  wheel-room, 
closely  followed  by  the  Indian,  who  now 
supposed  their  friends  to  be  found.  Quick 
as  lightning  Walker  sprung  from  the  bin, 
and  slammed  the  door  upon  them,  bolting  it 
securely.  He  then  started  for  the  mill-gate, 
which,  being  hoisted,  would  set  the  large 
wheel  in  motion. 

As  soon  as  the  door  was  closed  upon 
Nettleton,  he  rightly  suspected  treachery, 
and  throwing  himself  with  all  his  violence 
against  the  door,  tried  to  force  it.  But  in 
vain. 

"  Quick,  Ingen  ;  jump  into  the  nSlI- wheel, 
and  down  into  the  water  !" 

They  were  about  to  adopt  this  plan  of 


escape,  when  the  wheel  started  with  great 
rapidity,  rendering  it  seemingly  impossible 
to  do  so. 

"  Now,"  yelled  Walker,  as  he  seized  Miss 
Mamie  and  bore  her  from  the  mill,  "you 
shall  see  the  folly  of  opposing  me  !  You 
shall  see  how  I  triumph  over  all  obstacles, 
and  how  those  who  oppose  mc  perish  !" 

Inside  of  the  mill,  and  near  the  door,  was 
a  quantity  of  hay  and  unthreshed  grain, 
stored  there  for  use  by  some  neighboring 
farmer  or  guerrilla.  Striking  a  match, 
Walker  lit  the  inflammable  material.  In  a 
moment  it  blazed  high,  and  communicated 
with  the  woodwork.  Walker  only  waited 
to  see  this,  and  then,  almost  dragging  IMiss 
Hqyward  along,  he  reached  the  river,  drew 
the  boat  into  the  stream,  and  was  once  more 
floating  with  the  current. 

"  Look,  Miss  Mamie,  is  not  that  a  lovely 
sight  ?"  he  cried,  pointing  to  the  mill,  now 
thoroughly  enveloped  in  flames.  "  Nettle- 
ton  is  there,  and  Fall-leaf  is  there,  and  they 
have  been  brought  there  by  you.  They 
will  perish  in  those  flames,  and  you  must 
be  responsible  for  their  murder.  When 
will  you  learn  that  it  is  useless  to  oppose 
me,  and  cease  to  do  so  ?  To  submit  to  my 
proper  and  honorable  requests  is  the  only 
way  you  can  save  your  friends." 

When  Nettleton  and  Fall-leaf  found  their 
mode  of  escape  thus  cut  ofi",  they  naturally 
turned  to  each  other  for  advice.  But  the 
water  thrown  from  the  wheel  so  blinded 
and  choked  them  that  they  could  not  hold 
conversation  at  all.  It  was  not  long  before 
our  prisonfts  became  aware  of  the  fact 
that,  however  disagreeable  the  water  might 
be,  they  were  likely  to  be  visited  by  an 
element,  and  that  very  soon,  far  more  dis- 
agreeable, under  the  i^resent  circumstances. 
The  flames  were  seizing  upon  everj-  part  of 
the  mill,  and  all  around  them  soon  became 
a  mass  of  lurid,  destroying  light.  The 
rafters,  flooring  and  upper  work  threatened  w 
to  foil  at  any  moment.  Still  the  room  in 
which  our  friends  were  confined  remained 
unscathed,  surrounded  as  it  was  by  water. 
But,  it  must  soon  yield  to  the  fiery  element. 
The  wheel  still  moved ;  yet  it  seemed  as  if 
its  speed  was  somewhat  lessened.  At  length 
Nettleton  yelled : 

"  Ingen,  I'm  going ;  take  your  chances !" 

With  a  bound  he  sprung  into  the  wheel.    ^ 
He   escaped   any  severe   blow,   but,   upon    fr 
alighting  he   was  tossed,  and  pitched,  and 
tumbled  over,  until  at  last,  catching  upon 
the  centre-bar,  he  held  hunself  until  he  had 


PERIL  OF  KETTLETON  AND  THE  INDIAN. 


37 


made  his  calculation  as  to  where  his  next 
jump  should  be.  At  last  he  ventured  the 
hazardous  leap,  and  was  precipitated  into 
the  foamiug  waters  beneath  the  wheel, 
which  in  its  revolution  struck  him  lightly, 
calling  forth  a  grumble  or  a  gruut.  But 
Nettleton  battled  bravely  with  the  rushing 
waters,  and  at  length,  half  dead  with  suffo- 
cation, he  crawled  upon  the  bank  as  the 
burning  rafters  of  the  mill  were  falling 
around  him. 

"  Wal,  I  suppose  Ingen  is  roasted  alive, 
and  I  must  do  the  work  alone.  I'm  darn 
sorry.  And  I've  lost  my  gun,  too.  But  I 
ought  to  be  glad  that  I  didn't  lose  myself. 
The  villain,  but  won't  I  roast  him  if  ever  I 
lay  these  hands  on  him  !" 

Thus  he  muttered  as  he  sat  for  a  moment 
gazing  upon  the  appalling  spectacle  before 
him.  He  then  sprung  up,  and  seeing  the 
old  woman,  at  once  started  for  the  cabin. 
Madge  met  huii  at  the  door. 

"  "Will  you  have  my  services,  to  tell  you 
truly  the  fortune  that  is  in  store  for  you  ?" 
she  asked. 

"  Your  services.  Yaas ;  I'll  have  you 
tell  me  all  about  affairs  here  in  this  quarter, 
and  if  you  don't  own  up  every  thing,  I'll 
put  3'ou  in  this  pile  of  logs  and  roast  you, 
as  sure  as  you  are  a  she  woman.  Do  you 
understand  ?" 

"  I  have  but  little  to  reveal  of  the  cir- 
cumstances to  which  you  refer.  The  Fede- 
I'al  officer  icas  in  the  mill  a  prisoner,  but 
escaped,  in  his  delirium,  and  is  now  some- 
where out  in  the  moimtain.  Walker  and 
the  lady  were  in  the  mill,  but  are  now  out 
of  reach,  down  stream.  This  is  all  I 
know." 

"And  it  is  enough.  Now,  you  just  fork 
over  a  good  Minie  musket — I  know  you 
have  a  dozen  concealed  here  for  the  use  of 
your  Mends,  and  all  the  fixius  for  settlin'  the 
hash  of  your  friend,  Captain  Walker,  for 
hun  and  me  has  an  accoimt  to  fix  what  will 
require  powder  and  lead,  if  this  bread-cutter 
of  mine  don't  do  the  job,"  he  said,  handling 
his  bowie-knife. 

Madge  only  too  well  read  in  Nettleton's 
face  the  resolute  nature  of  the  man,  and 
with  scarcely  a  moment's  hesitancy  went 
out  of  the  hut  to  a  hollow  tree  near  by,  and 
produced  from  thence  an  armful  of  arms, 
made  up  of  shot-guns,  old-fashioned  rifles, 
and  a  ]\Iinic  musket.  From  these  Nettleton 
selected,  after  carefiil  scrutiny,  a  heavy 
double-barrel  squirrel  gun.  .Ammunition 
was  also  supplied  by  the  woinan  without 


hesitancj'',  and  the  pursuer  soon  found  him- 
self equipped  in  a  most  formidable  manner. 

"  Thei^,  old  gal,  you  have  done  the  right 
thing.  It  is  well  that  you  did,  for,  as  sure 
as  lizards,  I  should  have  burned  you  in  your 
pen  if  you  hadn't  forked  over  what  I  know'd 
was  in  your  possession.  Now,  good-by, 
and  behave  yourself  If  the  captain — my 
captain  I  mean — comes  back  to  you,  do 
you  be  kind  to  him,  for  I  tell  yau  it  is  for 
your  best  interests  to  be  so.  Do  you  believe 
that  ?" 

"  I  believe  any  thing  "j'ou  say,"  replied  the 
old  creature,  betraying  her  anxiety  to  get 
rid  of  her  visitor. 

"  You  do,  eh  ?  Well,  jist  keep  on  think- 
ing so,  for  I  shall,  maj'hap,  want  to  iise  you 
again  some  of  these  days.  So  good-by,  and 
keep  your  eyes  clean." 

With  this  injunction  he  started  again  for 
the  river,  following  the  stream  for  some 
distance,  but  finally,  for  some  reason  best 
known  to  himself,  took  to  the  mountains. 
Every  few  moments  he  would  pause  and 
listen,  as  if  a  faint  soimd  met  his  earS,  and 
then  continue  his  journey. 

After  Nettleton  had  escaped  from  the 
mill,  Fall-leaf  began  to  look  around  for 
some  other  means  of  escape.  He  felt  sure 
that  Nettleton's  leap  must  be  a  fatal  ohe — 
that,  if  he  was  not  dashed  to  pieces  by  the 
wheel,  he  would  surely  be  drowned  in  the 
rushing  waters.  All  chance  of  escape  for 
the  poor  Jndian  appeared  quite  as  hopeless. 
The  flames  were  already  hissing  around 
him,  and  curling  up  the  sides  of  his  prison- 
house.  The  fire  had  weakened  the  boards, 
and,  just  as  the  flames  were  coiling  around 
his  form,  he  made  a  desperate  effort,  and 
burst  the  siding  from  the  mill.  In  an 
instant  he  sprung  through  the  aperture,  al- 
though the  fiery  elenient  presented  a  formid- 
able obstacle  between  himself  and  safety. 
He  alighted,  however,  with  only  a  few 
slight  bruises,  and,  waiting  for  nothing, 
bounded  forward.  He  knew  if  Walker  had 
continued  his  journey  down  the  river,  he 
could  soon  overtake  him.  For  an  hour  he 
did  not  slacken  his  pace,  and  finally,  in 
turning  a  short  bend  in  the  river,  he  beheld 
the  boat. 

He  was  about  to  dash  forward  to  the 
rescue  of  Miss  Hayward,  but  he  remem- 
bered that  he  had  no  gun,  his  only  weapon 
being  his  sheath-knife,  while  Walker  was 
well  armed.  He  must  resort  to  stratagem. 
His  object  was  to  watch  for  opportunity, 
and  when  Walker  should  land,  or  when  the 


i^^ 


88 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MH^L. 


boat  neared  the  shore,  and  the  thicket  fa- 
vored the  movement,  to  spring  upon  him 
suddenly,  and  drive  the  knife  to  his  heart. 
But  the  river  gradually  grew  wider,  and 
Walker  kept  his  boat  in  the  center,  too  far 
distant  from  shore  for  any  attempt  for  his 
seizure  to  prove  successful.  All  that  day 
and  all  the  night  following,  the  boat  drifted 
on  with  the  stream.  It  was  evident  "Walker 
was  anxious  to  reach  a  certain  point  as 
quickly  as  possible. 

The  morning  dawned  just  as  the  little 
craft  shot  past  the  ford  on  the  Rolla  turn- 
pike, near  the  "  ghost  swamp,"  a  locality 
of  weird  interest  and  novel  character. 
Walker  was  about  to  land,  near  a  small 
farm-house  which  stood  behind  a  jutting 
hill,  entirely  concealed  from  the  main  road, 
but  before  touching  the  sliore,  his  quick  eye 
caught  sight  of  a  dark  form  creepmg  cau- 
tiously along  the  bank.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment he  discovered  three  horses  tied  in  a 
thicket  only  a  short  distance  from  the  house. 
Whether  they  belonged  to  friend  or  foe  he 
could  not  tell ;  but  the  fact  of  seeing  the 
creeping  form  rendered  him  cautious,  and 
he  immediately  pulled  for  the'opposite  shore, 
where  he  landed. 

"  Are  you  friend  or  foe  to  the  Confede- 
rates.?" shouted  Walker,  from  the  opposite 
side  of  the  stream. 

There  was  no  response. 

"  That  cursed  Dick  must  have  betrayed 
me,"  he  muttered.  "  But,  I  will  match 
them  yet.     Come !" 

He  dragged  Miss  Hayward  along  up  the 
mountain  steep.  At  length  he  reached  a 
point  of  rock  which  extended  far  over  the 
valley  below.  A  narrow  footway,  not  more 
than  ten  inches  in  width,  forming  a  kind  of 
shelf  in  the  rock,  led  into  an  immense  cav- 
ern, which  is  known  in  tliat  region  as  the 
"  Silver  Cave."  Just  in  front  of  this  cave 
was  a  large,  flat  rock,  forming  an  overhang- 
ing platform,  but  to  reach  this,  or  the  mouth 
of  the  cave,  required  great  care,  as  the  nar- 
row path  was  the  only  manner  in  which  an 
entrance  or  exit  could  be  effected.  Into 
this  place  Walker  conveyed  Miss  Hayward. 

Walker  had,  when  meeting  the  rebels 
two  days  before,  provided  his  boat  well  with 
provisions.  These  he  conveyed  with  him 
into  the  cavern. 

He  had  not  observed,  however,  that  he 
was  followed  closely,  and  that  the  Indian 
arrived  at  the  narrow  passageway  just  as 
the  rebel  and  his  prisoner  entered  the  cave. 
This  was  so.     The  Indian  crept  up  as  close- 


ly as  possible,  and  peered  over  the  project- 
ing point  which  shut  Walker  from  bis  view. 
He  was  observed. 

"  And  who  are  you  ?"  yelled  Walker. 
The  Indian  was  perfectly  familiar  with 
the  cave.  He  know  no  person  could  leave 
it  by  the  narrow  shelf  or  pathway.  He 
could  keep  himself  concealed,  and  if  Walker 
passed  a  certain  point,  before  he  could  bring 
his  gun  to  bear,  he  could  strike  him  dead. 
Walker  was  a  prisoner,  with  a  watchful  and 
relentless  keeper.     The  Indian  replied  : 

"  Ah,  WJiite  Bird  !    Fall-leaf  here  !    Fall- 
leaf  save  !" 

"  Is  it  indeed  my  friend  FaU-leaf  ?"  cried 
Miss  HayAvard,  joyfully.  / 

"  Yes  ;  Fall-leaf  save  you  !" 
"Where   is  William  Nettleton  ?"   asked 
Mamie. 

"  Gone — gone  !" 

"  Ah  !  then  I  have  only  you  to  encoun- 
ter "  yelled  Walker,  "  and,  if  the  Fates  fa- 
vor me,  I  shall  triumph.  I  know  the  In- 
dian has  not  thought  to  provide  himself 
with  provisions.  I  have  enough  to  last  us, 
with  care,  for  two  weeks,  and  by  that  time 
he  will  starve,  for  no  Federal  fool  ever  will 
find  me  Iwre.  He  dare  not  leave  in  search 
of  help,  for  I  should  then  effect  my  escape. 
So  we  will  play  our  hands,  and  see  if  I  do 
not  hold  the  trump  card.  Ha  !  ha  !  I  can 
baffle  any  friend  you  have.  Miss  Hay^^^^rd." 
"  White  Bird  sing,"  said  the  Indian. 
"  Yes,  I  wUl  sing.  And  as  we  are  now 
near  the  main  road,  some  one  will  be  sure 
to  hear  me." 

"  Me  watch — me  wait !" 
During  the  entire  passage  Miss  Hayward 
had  not  failed  to  sing  her  echo-song  eveiy 
few  miles,  hoping  to  attract  attention  and 
gain  assistance.  Now  that  she  was  so  near 
the  public  highway,  she  applied  herself  anew 
to  the  task.  Walker  made  frequent  attempts 
to  silence  her,  but  could  not  do  it,  as  he 
feared,  whenever  he  turned  from  his  watch, 
that  the  Indian  would  dart  in  upon  him. 

Some  two  years  previous,  there  was  a 
superstitious  belief  prevailing  in  that  section 
of  Missouri,  that  the  spirit  of  a  murdered 
lady  appeared  upon  the  waters  of  the  Gas- 
conade, singing  her  mournful  lays,  and  glid- 
ing in  her  death-skiff  along  the  waters.  For 
some  time  past  nothing  had  been  heard  of 
the  "  lady-ghost ;"  but,  when  the  songs  of 
Sliss  Hayward  were  heard,  the  simple  in- 
habitants began  to  think  that  the  "  ghost- 
lady  "  had  returned,  and,  instead  of  seeking 
to  gratify  their  curiosity,  were  caieful  to 


THE  HAND  TO  HAND  STRUGGLE. 


89 


keep  as  far  as  possible  away.  So  it  proved 
with  regard  to  the  cave,  after  the  singing 
commenced. 

Several  days  passed,  and  no  succor  ap- 
peared. The  Indian  kept  faithful  watch, 
and  so  did  Walker,  that  he  might  not  be 
taken  by  surprise. 

Walker  becoming  convinced  that  Fall- 
leaf  had  no  gun,  several  times  endeavored 
to  bring  his  own  to  bear  upon  his  vigilant 
foe,  but  this  he  could  not  do  without  placing 
himself  in  a  dangerous  position.  Both 
were  weary  for  want  of  sleep,  and  both 
would  occasionally  sink  into  a  fitful  slum- 
ber; but,  so  intent  was  each  upon  his  object, 
that  the  slightest  movement  would  rouse  the 
sleepers,  and  each  stand  ready  to  meet  his 
foe.  But,  as  Fall-leaf  hud  no  food,  he  be- 
gan tO'  grow  faint — his  firm  frame  began 
visibly  to  weaken  ;  still,  he  determined  to 
maintain  his  watch  as  long  as  life  should 
last. 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

TTie  Mountain  Adventure. 

Let  us  return  to  the  army,  which  we  left 
near  Lebanon.  The  main  force  was  to  con- 
tinue its  march  onward  toward  RoUa,  while 
a  battalion  of  infantry,  a  section  of  artillery, 
and  a  company  of  cavalry  struck  to  the 
west  of  the  main  road,  and  started  for  the 
point  from  which  the  messenger  had  arrived. 
It  was  a  weary  march,  as  the  troops  already 
had  proceeded  twenty  miles  that  day.  But 
the  dreadful  atrocities  related  as  having  been 
committed  by  the  guerrillas  fired  the  hearts 
of  the  brave  soldiers,  and  they  pressed  for- 
ward with  a  will. 

The  troops  at  last  reached  the  scene  of 
the  outrages,  in  the  place  known  as  "  Bo- 
hannan  Mills  Valley."  The  deeds  of  blood 
and  horror  had  not  been  exaggerated  by  the 
messenger.  Wohien  had  been  murdered  in 
their  bteds,  old  men  were  lying  stiff  and  cold, 
with  their  brains  beaten  out,  and  cUildren, 
helpless  and  weeping,  were  clinging  to  their 
dead  bodies  or  w^andering  distractedly  around. 

The  battalion  which  had  been  sent  to  this 
valley  was  the  one  to  which  Lieutenant 
Wells  and  Adjutant  Hinton  belonged.  Wells 
was  still  suffering  from  the  terrible  anxiety 
of  mind  which  he  had  recently  imdergone, 
but  did  not  permit  his  own  troubles  to  inter- 
fere with  his  discharge  of  duty.  The  troops 
camped  in  the  little  valley,  to  collect  the 
scattered  families,  whose  remaining  members 


it  was  determined  to  take  along  with  the 
army  in  its  retreat.  Soon  word  was  brought 
by  a  mountaineer  that  the  guerrillas  still 
were  infesting  the  moimtain,  while  the  flames 
of  a  burning  mill,  seen  below,  seemed  to 
give  evidence  that  the  miscreants  still  were 
at  their  work  of  blood.  This  decided  the 
officers  to  scour  the  mountain,-if  possible,  to 
force  the  rebels  to  a  fight,  for  there  was  not, 
a  man  in  the  Union  ranks  who  did  not  pant 
for  a  chance  to  meet  those  dastards,  who,  un- 
der the  protecting  folds  of  the  Confederate 
flag,  committed  atrocities  at  which  humanity 
stood  aghast.  Wells  was  soon  at  the  head 
of  a  strong  party  of  dismounted  dragoons, 
and  with  them  struck  off  for  the  hills  back 
of  the  burning  mill.  A  weary  march  was 
brought  to  a  sudden  halt  by  a  deep  water 
gully,  over  which  no  perceptible  ford  offered 
a  passage.  Up  and  down  it  Wells  passed 
to  reconnoiter.  It  was  an  ugly  spot  to  be 
caught  in  by  a  wily  foe,  and  the  troops  were 
so  disposed  as  to  guard  against  a  surprise. 
The  men  kept  close  under  cover  of  the  dense 
undergrowth,  so  as  not  to  betray  their  posi- 
tion should  the  guerrillas  come  upon  them. 
Lieutenant  Wells  and  Acjjutant  Hinton  were 
proceeding  up  the  watercourse,  when  a  rat- 
tle of  fire-arms  arrested  their  attention.  It 
was  evident  some  kind  of  a  conflict  was 
taking  place  over  the  stream.  The  volley 
was  not,  however,  answered  by  a  return ; 
only  a  single  shot  was  heard,  and  then  a 
wild,  frenzied  shout,  as  if  of  maddened  men. 
After  a  brief  interval,  another  shot  was 
heard,  and  a  second  paralyzed  howl  was 
followed  by  shouts  and  curses,  plainly  heard 
by  the  two  anxious  senior  officers. 

"  It  must  be  the  guerrillas  after  the  poor 
Unionists  who  have  fled  to  the  mountain," 
said  Hinton.  "  Our  men  must  not  be  idle 
when  such  work  is  going  on.  You  stay 
here.  Wells,  to  watch  ftirther,  while  I  go 
back  to  bring  up  our  boys." 

Hinton  hurried  away,  while  Wells  crept 
forward  to  the  veiy  edge  of  the  deep  but 
narrow  gully  beyond  which  the  sounds  of 
conflict  were  heard.  Hardly  had  he  secured 
a  spot  for  observation,  ere  he  was  startled 
by  the  ci'ash  of  the  undergrowth  and  the 
voices  of  men  not  ten  rods  away.  On  to- 
ward the  lieutenant's  place  of  concealment 
came  the  pursued  and  pursuers.  The  first 
was  but  a  single  man,  whom  Wells  several 
times  detected  gliding  along  from  tree  to 
tree,  keeping  "  under  cover  "  like  an  experi- 
enced woodsman.  He  was  closely  pursued 
by  a  band  of  the  guerrillas,  all  dismounted^ 


40 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


who  were  making  the  hills  echo  with  their 
demoniac  yells.  Slowly  the  fugitive  retired, 
holding  his  foes  at  bay  by  his  sagacious  ma- 
neuvers. Wells  became  intensely  excited 
over  tlie  scene,  and  resolved  to  rush  at  once 
to  the  brave  fellow's  aid,  but  there  lay  be- 
fore him  the  impassable  gulf  over  which 
few  men  could  bound.  Finally  the  hunted 
man  struck  the  gully,  and  saw  at  a  glance 
that  his  retreat  was  cut  oflF.  The  enemj'- 
saw  it,  too,  for  they  set  up  a  shout  of  com- 
mingled derision  and  pleasure,  which  so 
maddened  the  fugitive  that  he  yelled  : 

"  Laugh  away,  you  dam  skunks.  I'll 
make  more  than  one  of  your  dirty  carcasses 
food  for  the  crows  before  I  go  under."  And 
suiting  the  words  to  action,  he  fired  two 
successive  shots  from  what,  apparently,  was 
a  double-barrel  fowling-piece.  Two  of  the 
guerrillas  must  have  fallen,  for  ferocious 
shrieks  of  agony  followed. 

Wells  could  endure  no  more.  There 
stood  before  him  his  brave  fi-iend  William 
Nettleton,  hunted  by  a  dozen  fiends  who 
must  soon  overpower  him  if  aid  was  not 
quickly  given.  He  started  backward  for  a 
couple  of  rods,  then  rushed  with  almost  fly- 
ing swiftness  up  to  the  gully,  and  bounded 
over  its  sharply-cut  edge.  For  a  moment 
his  desperate  leap  arrested  all  attention. 
Nettleton  deemed  it  a  new  adversary  com- 
ing upon  him  from  an  unexpected  quarter, 
and  turned,*  knife  in  hand,  to  close  in  with 
his  antagonist.  What  was  his  astonishment 
to  welcome  Lieutenant  Wells  to  his  arms ! 
What  a  shout  followed  !  The  guerrillas 
quickly  sought  cover,  not  knowing  how 
many  others  might  be  lurking  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  ravine  to  give  them  a 
bloody  welcome. 

"  Wells,  by  the  jumping  jingo  !  Where 
did  you  come  from  and  where  is  you  going 
to  ?  Give  us  yer  hand  and  lend  us  yer  re- 
volver. Ah,  got  two  of  'em.  Hooray ! 
Down  on  yer  knees  quicker'n  lightnin',  for 
the  woman-murderers  are  after  us,  sharp  !" 

Down  the  two  men  fell,  just  in  time  to 
escape  a  volley  from  the  carbines  of  a  squad 
of  the  murderers.  With  the  dexterity  of  a 
squirrel,  Nettleton  rushed  forward  to  a 
friendly  tree,  and  fired  quickly  three  shots 
from  the  revolver.  It  was  a  surprise  to  the 
enemy,  for  two  of  their  number  fell,  so  true 
had  the  aim  been.  The  squad  retreated  to 
reload,  but  Nettleton  had  no  idea  of  per- 
mitting that,  and  was  about  to  press  his  ad- 
vantage, when  a  powerfully-built  rebel  came 
rushing  upon  him,  knife  in  hand,  from  the 


right  side  of  the  tree,  unseen  by  the  nn- 
daunted  man  until  it  was  too  late  for  the 
use  of  his  fire-arm.  In  a  moment  they  were 
clasped  in  the  death-struggle.  Three  or 
four  of  the  guerrillas  rushed  to  the  spot, 
only  to  be  shot  down  by  Wells'  deliberate 
aim.  No  more  appeared,  and  the  two  com- 
batants were  left;  to  their  fearful  work. 
Each  had  seized  the  knife-hand  of  the  other. 
Then  followed  the  strain  of  muscle  for  the 
mastery.  The  guerrilla,  counting  upon  his 
tremendous  strength,  doubtless  hoped  for 
an  easy  victory ;  but  in  that  ungainly  form 
he  found  a  bundle  of  nerves  tough  as  whale- 
bone— a  human  frame  elastic  as  india-rub- 
ber but  as  invincible  as  steel. 

Down  toward  the  gully  the  combatants 
pressed.  In  vain  did  the  rebel  try  to  force 
his  antagonist  to  the  earth.  The  supple 
form  of  Nettleton  bent  under  his  adversa- 
ry's pressure,  but  his  frame  at  lengtli  re- 
bounded with  a  force  which  bore  the  guer- 
rilla to  his  knees.  He  drew  the  Federal 
down  with  him,  and  on  their  knees  the 
frightful  combat  was  continued.  Wells 
would  have  advanced  from  his  concealment 
to  the  rescue,  but  knew  that  a  rebel  carbine 
would  surely  bring  him  down,  and  thus 
place  it  out  of  his  power  to  aid  his  friend 
at  all.  Slowly  toward  the  chasm  tlie  men 
worked  their  way,  struggling  like  two  ser- 
pents striving  for  the  death-triumph.  It 
was  an  exciting  but  appalling  spectacle, 
which  the  sudden  roar  of  fire-arms  on  the 
left  did  not  serve  to  an-est.  A  shout  fol- 
lowed, which  Wells  recognized  as  that  of 
his  o\ra.  men,  who  must  have  discovered  a 
crossing  below,  and  have  come  upon  the 
band  of  cut-throats  unawares.  There  waa 
a  sudden  scattering  of  those  concealed  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  hand-to-hand 
contest,  but  one  villain  rushed  from  his 
cover  upon  the  wilthing  forms  of  the  bleed- 
ing men,  with  the  design  of  dispatching  the 
unconquered  Federal.  Wells  was  upon 
him  like  a  tiger,  and  in  a  moment  cut  him 
down  with  his  sword.  Hinton  beheld  the 
stroke,  and  came  rushing  up  to  the  spot 
just  in  time  to  behold  the  struggling  men 
go  over  the  gully's  bank  together. 

The  two  officers  hurried  to  the  bank. 
Some  twenty  feet  below  they  could  distin- 
guish the  forms  of  the  combatants,  both  ap- 
parently lifeless.  Without  a  moment's  hes- 
itancy. Wells  dropped  from  the  brink,  aifti 
fell  crashing  through  the  dense  jimgle  lining 
the  water's  edge,  to  the  bed  of  the  stream. 
He  was  stunned  but  not  injured,  and  arose 


THE  LOST  FOUND. 


41 


to  his  feet  to  find  Nettleton  in  a  sitting  pos- 
ture. Beside  him  lay  the  big  guerrilla, 
silent  in  death. 

"  I'll  be  danged  if  that  wan't  the  ugliest 
cuss  as  ever  I  tusseled  with,  breeches-holt, 
back-holt  or  rough-and-tumble."  This  was 
his  first  ejaculation. 

"Are  you  injured?"  anxiously  inquired 
Wells. 

"  Wal,  let's  take  a  reconnoissance.  Here's 
a  hole  in  this  arm,  that's  sp'iled  the  only 
good  coat  I  ever  had,  dang  it !  Here's  a 
rip,  too,  in  the  collar,  whar  that  critter's 
knife  tried  to  cut  my  windpipe.  He  did 
scratch  me  thar,  I  believe,"  he  said,  finger- 
ing his  neck,  down  which  the  blood  flowed 
freely.  "  By  Jemima,  ef  I  haven't  lost  a 
finger !"  he  added,  suddenly  holding  up  his 
hand.  "  Now,  that's  too  bad,  ef  it  is  on 
the  left  hand.  I  rayther  think  the  reb  got 
a  mouthful  when  he  chawed  that  off!" 
And  thus  he  would  have  continued  for  an- 
other ten  minutes  had  not  shouts  from  above 
aroused  him. 

"  Who's  come  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Hinton  and  the  battalion." 

"  Glory  !  And  have  the  rebs  been  caught 
in  a  trap  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  how  many,  but  from  the 
shots  and  shouts  I  don't  think  many  will  be 
permitted  to  escape." 

"  All  right.  Now  jist  give  us  a  lift,  to 
see  if  my  shanks  is  all  right.  There,  that's 
the  jimiper.  Jist  look  at  my  back,  and  see 
if  you  find  any  holes  that  want  plugging." 

No  "  holes  "  were  found,  and  the  good- 
natured  fellow  came  out  of  the  combat 
with  only  flesh-wounds,  save  the  loss  of  one 
finger  from  the  left  hand,  which  the  guer- 
rilla had  bitten  off.  Nettleton  was  much 
exhausted,  and  was  finally  drawn  up  out  of 
the  gully  with  no  little  difficulty,  when  the 
men  set  up  a  shout  which  made  the  hills 
rmg. 

"  There,  boys,  that'll  pay  for  the  bruises  ; 
I  and  now  I  guess  you'll  have  to  do  me  an- 
other favor — jist  rub  my  shanks  and  the 
hinges  in  my  back  with  a  little  whisky,  if 
you  can  spare  it." 

In  a  moment  a  dozen  pocket-flasks  were 
produced  and  willing  hands  gave  him  a  good 
rubbing,  which  gave  his  limbs  new  strength. 
It  was  evident  that  his  muscles  had  been 
severely  overtasked,  for  he  was  languid  and 
incat)able  of  exertion. 

Nettleton  now  narrated  the  particulars 
of  his  and  Fall-leaf's  adventures.  Soon  the 
troops  were  out  on  the  search  for  Captain 


Hayward,  while,  assisted  by  a  couple  of 
comrades,  the  wounded  hero  of  the  hour 
made  his  way  down  to  the  cabin  of  old 
Madge.  The  old  creature  received  him 
kindly  and  at  once  bestirred  herself  to  make 
him  strong  again.  The  air  was  soon  odo- 
riferous with  the  smell  of  distilling  herbs. 

A  prolonged  shout,  ere  long,  came  rolling 
down  the  hill.  Nettleton  was  aroused  from 
a  sleep  into  which  he  had  fallen.  His  two 
comrades  at  once  hurried  out  to  ascertain  its 
cause.  Old  Madge  paused  in  her  toil  and 
said : 

"  The  captain's  found,  I  s'pose." 
"  Hooray  !"  yelled  the  invalid,  now  an  in- 
valid no  longer.  Springing  from  his  bed 
he  rushed  out,  and  away  he  went  up  the 
hills  in  the  direction  of  the  still  continuing 
noise.  His  companions,  astonished  at  his 
sudden  recovery,  followed,  and  all  were  soon 
lost  to  sight. 

Harry  Hayward  was  indeed  found,  and 
the  cavalcade,  bearing  him  on  a  rude  litter, 
after  a  half-hour's  time,  made  its  appearance 
coming  down  the  mountain.  Nettleton  was 
at  his  side,  crying  like  a  baby.  Wells  held 
the  sick  man's  hand,  while  his  face,  still  ex- 
pressing anxiety,  beamed  with  joy.  Hay- 
ward was  discovered  hidden  in  a  quiet,  cool 
nook,  where  he  lay  in  a  very  exliausted  con- 
dition. He  had,  in  his  fever-delirium,  bro- 
ken away  from  Madge's  custody,  but,  no 
sooner  was  he  out  in  the  cool  shade  of  the 
trees  and  rocks  than  his  mind  became  clear 
and  composed.  Weak  and  ill  as  he  was  he 
still  had  strength  to  seek  a  place  of  safety 
from  pursuit,  should  it  be  attempted,  as  he 
supposed  it  would  be.  At  nightfall  he  had 
determined  to  seek  out  some  respectable 
looking  farm-house,  and  on  the  morrow  to 
cast  himself  upon  the  mercy  of  strangers, 
knowing  that  even  though  that  stranger 
might  be  a  foe  he  could  not  be  more  inhu- 
man than  men  wearing  the  uniform  of  Con- 
federate officers.  But  the  sufferer  was  spared 
further  efforts.  The  shouts  and  reports  of 
fire-arms  Hayward  distmctly  heard,  and  at 
once  surmised  that  a  Union  force  was  at 
hand.  When  the  men  scattered  in  squads 
for  the  search  through  the  mountain,  the 
captain  beheld  one  of  the  parties  passing 
before  his  hiding-place.  It  was  his  moment 
of  deliverance.  He  stqoped  out  before  the 
astonished  soldiers,  who,  not  recognizing 
the  apparition,  did  not  at  once  welcome 
hun. 

"  My  men,  don't  you  know  me  ?" 
"Captain   Haywai-d!"    they  shouted,  as 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


they  rushed  upon  him,  and  clasped  him  in 
their  arms. 

He  was  borne  toward  Madge's  cabin,  to 
be  welcomed  on  the  way  by  the  gathering 
men.  Wells  now  appeared.  The  joy  of 
that  meeting  can  be  surmised.  The  welkin 
was  made  to  ring  with  the  glad  notes  of 
the  jubilant  soldiers.  These  notes  it  was 
■which  aroused  tlie  sleeper  in  the  cabin,  and 
when  at  length  he  appeared,  strugglmg 
wearily  up  the  hill,  the  cavalcade  paused  to 
permit  the  overjoyed  parties  a  few  minutes 
of  undisturbed  greeting.  Nettleton  was 
not  even  talkative — a  circumstance  indica- 
tive of  the  depth  of  his  feelings — and  it 
was  not  until  the  captain  was  fully  do- 
miciled in  the  cabin,  that  he  could  con- 
sent to  talk  of  the  past  and  its  painful 
incidents.  He  then  narrated  the  events  of 
Walker's  plot,  as  we  have  here  recorded 
them,  ending  with  the  tragedy  of  the  mill. 
It  was  a  revelation  of  intense  but  most 
painful  interest  to  tlie  sick  man  ;  but  he 
bore  the  affliction  of  his  sister's  loss  with 
great  resolution,  sustained  by  the  conviction 
that  He  who  doeth  all  things  well  would 
not  permit  the  evil  one  to  triumph. 


CHAPTER  XIH. 
Tlie  Gam  and  the  Contest  for  Life. 

After  two  days  spent  in  the  cabin,  Net- 
tleton  became  excessively  uneasy.  From 
something  which  had  transpired,  he  con- 
ceived that  old  Madge  knew  more  of 
Walker's  whereabouts  than  she  had  yet 
confessed.  This  conviction,  once  formed, 
was  but  the  prelude  to  action.  Without 
informing  any  one  of  his  purpose,  he  fol- 
lowed the  old  woman  into  the  woods — 
whither  she  went  in  pursuit  of  her  medica- 
ments— having  in  his  hands  a  stout  rope. 
In  a  wild,  retired  spot,  he  confronted  her. 

"  Look  here,  old  critter,  you're  close- 
mouthed,  when  it  would  be  better  for  your 
health  to  talk  a  little.  Now,  you  jist  tell 
me  where  Captain  Walker  has  taken  Miss 
Mamie.  Talk  straight,  and  not  a  gap  in 
the  fence." 

"  I  don't  know  where  he  has  gone,"  she 
answered,  rather  evasively. 

"  That  is,  you  are  a  nat'ral-bom  know- 
nothing.  Well,  it  will  assist  your  memory, 
perhaps,  to  stretch  your  neck  a  little,  jist  to 
take  the  kinks  out,  you  know ;  so  pass  your 
shock  of  tow  into  this  'ere  noose,  while  I 


pull  you  up  on  that  limb."  And  suiting  the 
action  to  the  word  he  flimg  the  noose  dex- 
trously  over  her  head.  She  was  taken  by 
surprise,  and  trembling  in  every  limb, 
asked  : 

"  Would  yqn  hang  me  ?" 

"  Sartain  as  there's  a  tree  and  here's  a 
rope." 

"  I  don't  know  where  Walker  is,  but  I 
think  he  has  a  place  of  refuge  down  the 
river,  near  the  Ghost  Swamp.  There  is  a 
cave  in  the  river's  bank,  opposite  to  the 
swamp,  where  I  know  his  confederates  oc- 
casionally secrete  themselves.  He  may  have 
gone  there ;  but,  as  he  has  been  gone  over 
two  days,  I  don't  see  why  he  should  be 
there  now.  It  is  my  opinion,  liowever,  that 
Miss  Mamie,  as  you  call  her,  is  there,  as  it 
is  the  best  place  to  keep  her." 

"  Ah,  thank  you,  old  Mrs.  Crow's-foot 
There  is  something  more  on  your  mind. 
isn't  there?" 

Madge  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"  I  know  all  about  your  friend's  visit ;  so 
do  you  jist  play  your  cards  right,  or  I'll 
catch  ye  niggin." 

This  allnsion  to  her  "  friend  "  startled  the 
old  woman. 

"  He  was  no  friend  of  mine ;  he  came 
along  on  his  own  account,  and  I  only  gave 
him  bread,  as  I  give  any  one  who  is 
himgry." 

"AH  right;  only,  what  did  he  tell  you?" 

She  hesitated.  Nettleton  gave  the  rope 
a  twitch,  and  looked  up  at  the  limb.  The 
hint  was  enough. 

"  The  man  said  he  was  up  from  below  on 
a  scout.  He  was  anxious  to  know  what  I 
knew  about  the  voice  of  a  woman  which 
he  said  had  been  heard  all  along  the  river. 
He  heard  it  distinctly  as  he  passed  the  road 
along  the  river  by  the  Ghost  Swamp ; 
others  had  heard  it,  and  he  believed  that  I 
could  tell  him  as  to  its  meaning.  I  told 
him  it  was  a  sign  that  he  was  singled  out 
for  death — that  every  person  who  heard  it 
was  called,  and  he  might,  therefore,  make 
up  his  mind  that  his  time  was  come.  With 
that  he  left.  I  did  not  inform  him  of  who 
was  in  my  cabin,  nor  any  thing  about  what 
had  happened  here.  So  I  hope  you  will 
let  me  go,  and  frighten  me  no  more." 

Nettleton  slowly  lifted  the  noose  from 
her  neck,  and,  without  another  word, 
walked  back  to  the  cabin.  He  called  out 
Lieutenant  Wells,  who  was  then  watching 
at  the  captam's  bedside,  and  the  two  friends 
held   a  long  consultation   together^  which 


THE  CONFEDERATE  AT  BAY. 


43 


ended  by  an  order  for  a  guard  of  twenty  to 
be  ready  for  a  night  expedition. 

By  ten  o'clock  all  were  in  readiness  and 
on  their  way,  taking  the  river  path  down 
stream.  "Wells  was  in  command.  Nettle- 
tou  acted  as  scout  and  gfMe.  All  night 
long  they  pressed  on,  and  daylight 
found  them  on  the  hills  opposite  the  spot 
indicated  by  Madge  as  the  locality  of  the 
cave  in  the  bank.  Asking  Wells  for  his 
field-glass,  Nettleton  carefully  scrutinized  the 
river's  bank  opposite.  After  a  short  survey 
he  suddenl)'-  exclaimed : 

"  The  Ingen,  as  sure  as  Sacramento !" 

"  What  do  you  say  ?"  inquired  Wells. 

"  Fall-leaf — see  him — there  he  lays,  and 
there  is  the  cave.  I'm  blest  if  I  know  what 
to  make  of  it.  I  supposed,  of  course,  that 
that  red-skin  was  roasted  alive  in  the  mill ; 
but  there  he  is,  and  liere  I  goes." 

So  saying,  down  he  dashed  into  the  river, 
and  forded  its  waters  rapidly.  Once  on  the 
opposite  side,  he  hurried  up  the  bank,  and 
soon  reached  the  ledge  across  which  the 
Indian  was  lying.  The  poor  fellow  was 
but  half  conscious  from  over-fatigue  and 
hunger,  yet  his  eyes  were  fixed  with  cat-like 
vigilance  upon  the  aperture  of  the  cave, 
while  his  hand  still  firmly  clasped  the  knife 
upon  which  he  relied  to  do  his  deadly 
work. 

Nettleton  approached  him  silently,  and 
touched  his  feet.  At  once  the  Indian  looked 
behind  him. 

"  Give  Fall-leaf  drink — quick  !"  was  his 
hurried  whisper,  while  the  finger  on  his  lip 
indicated  silence. 

Nettleton  comprehended  all  at  a  glance. 
Passing  his  canteen  and  knapsack  to  Fall- 
leaf,  he  beheld'  the  Indian  drink  and  eat 
with  satisfaction.  Not  a  word  passed  be- 
tween them. 

"  Good  !  Fall-leaf  7nuch  weak ;  now  strong 
again,"  he  whispered. 

"  Where's  Miss  Mamie  ?" 

The  Indian  pointed  to  the  cavern. 

"  Walker,  too  ?" 

Pall-leaf  nodded,  and  scowled  so  fiercely 
that  Nettleton  perceived  the  savage  wanted 
no  interference  in  his  case. 

"  Shan't  I  do  the  job  for  ye  ?" 

"  No — Fall-leaf  mad.  Me  kiU  'em — ^you 
go  way." 

"  That's  the  talk,  Ingen.  You  shall  have 
your  man ;  but,  Jerusalem,  don't  I  ache  to 
git  my  paws  on  him !" 

A  noise  was  now  heard  in  the  cave ;  it 
was  Walker's  voice.     "  I'll  not  permit  you 


to  sing,  I  again  tell  you.  If  those  men 
crossing  the  river  are  Union  soldiers,  you 
shall  not  betray  our  whereabouts,  and  if 
Fall-leaf  moves  I'll  shoot  him  !" 

"  Bah,  you  omerj-  cuss ;  Pm  on  your 
track  now  !"  shouted  Nettleton. 

"  William — dear  William !"  cried  the  cap- 
tive woman,  recognizing  his  voice. 

"  Here  /"  he  responded,  "  and  so  chock 
full  of  the  devil  that  if  I  don't  get  rid  of  it 
soon  it  will  spile  me.  Walker,  you  dirty 
beast,  dare  you  fight  me  ?"  he  yelled. 

"  I  dare  fight  any  decent  antagonist,  but 
don't  care  to  dirty  my  hands  with  you," 
was  the  reply. 

"  Oh,  you  nasty,  miserable,  thievin' 
woman-stealer,  man-assassinator.  I'll  cook 
your  breakfast  for  you,  but  Fall-leaf  shall 
eat  it ;  Jie'U  dirty  has  hands  with  yo^i !" 

"  I  defy  you  and  all  your  crew,"  growled 
the  rebel.  "  If  one  of  you  dares  to  show 
your  head,  you  are  a  dead  man  !" 

"  Blast  yer  picter,  here's  a  head — shoot 
it  1"  cried  Nettleton,  sticking  his  head  out 
in  a  manner  to  dare  Walker's  fire; 

The  scoundrel  was  prepared,  and  dis- 
charged his  gun  in  an  instant.  Its  report 
had  not  ceased  its  echo  ere  Fall-leaf,  with  a 
bound  like  a  panther,  dropped  before  the 
entrance  of  the  hole.  Walker  stood  there 
with  knife  in  hand,  to  foil  any  such  attempt 
to  storm  his  castle.  A  quick  blow  with  his 
foot  sent  the  Indian  headlong  over  the 
ledge. 

"  Try  that  on  me,"  roared  Nettleton,who, 
uninjured  by  the  ball  from  Walker's  musket, 
was  at  the  Indian's  heels. 

No  sooner  said  than  done,  and  Nettletcfti 
received  an  unexpected  blow  in  the  bowels 
from  the  rebel's  heavy  boot  which  sent  him 
almost  instantly  over  the  ledge  after  Fall- 
leaf. 

That  was  the  propitious  moment  for 
escape.  Without  a  word  to  his  captive,  he 
passed  out  upon  the  ledge,  and  had  nearly 
reached  its  terminus  when  Lieutenant  Wells, 
followed  by  his  men,  confronted  the  desper- 
ate man.  Drawing  his  revolver.  Wells 
cried  : 

"  Surrender  or  you  are  a  dead  man  !" 

"  I  never  will  surrender  to  you,"  was  the 
fierce  reply,  as  the  now  cornered  desperado 
began  slowly  to  retire,  backward,  to  regain 
his  stronghold. 

He  had  retreated  fully  half-way  to  the 
entrance,  when  his  heel  caught  in  the  rough 
floor  of  the  ledge,  and  his  balance  was 
lost.     For  a  moment  he  sought  to  regain 


44 


THE  PRISONER  OP  THE  MILL. 


liis  foothold,  but,  finding  it  gone,  he  gave  a 
shout  and  leaped  over  the  precipice. 

The  soldiers  looked  over  the  ledge  and 
saw  his  form  disappear  in  the  trees  beneath. 
Wells  did  not  wait,  but  rushed  to  the  cavern 
mouth. 

"  Miss  Mamie." 

A  form  darkened  the  passage,  and  within 
stood  Miss  Hayward,  smiling  and  blushing 
as  if  just  caught  at  her  toilet. 

With  a  cry  of  joy  Wells  entered  and 
clasped  her  to  his  bosom. 

"  Safe  and  iminjured !  Thank  God — 
thank  God !"  answered  the  maiden. 

"  Safe  and  restored ;  .  and,  thank  God, 
your  brother,  too,  is  recovered,  and  is  now 
in  our  liands,  doing  well !" 

"  Then  I  am  happy,  indeed !"  she  could 
only  reply,  while  tears  of  joy  checked  fur- 
ther utterance. 

Wells  had  entirely  forgotten  Walker,  in 
his  moment  of  sweet  communion  with  his 
restored  friend.  But,  a  shout  which  came 
up  from  the  depths  below  recalled  him  to 
duty.  It  was  a  wild  Indian  war-whoop  ; 
then  a  succession  of  ejaculations  which  the 
men  could  plainly  distinguish. 

"  Go  in,  Ingen  !"  "  Walk  along,  Walker, 
you  darn  skunk  you !"  "  There,  that's  a  good 
un,  Ingen  !"  "  Now  another  in  the  corn- 
crib  !"  "  There  he  goes !"  "  Hooray  for  the 
Ingen !" 

All  well  knew  the  meaning  of  this,  and 
a  number  of  the  men  hastened  to  the  base 
of  the  cliff,  by  a  long,  roundabout  path, 
which  came  up  from  the  river  at  the  ford 
bflow.  They  arrived  to  find  Walker  slain, 
and  Fall-leaf  badly  cut  in  the  face,  arms 
and  shoulders,  but  no  serious  wounds  on 
the  body.  Nettleton  stood  over  his  friend, 
bathing  his  woimds  in  the  clear  waters  of 
the  river. 

"  Ingen's  done  for  the  cut-throat,  sure. 
It  was  mean  to  shut  me  out ;  but  it  was  his 
game,  'cause  he  treed  it.  I'd  give  all  I'll 
ever  be  worth — " 

"  Would  you  give  Sally  ?"  put  in  one  of 
the  men. 

"  Dang  Sally — no,  dang  my  skin — that 
is,  dang  me  if  I  wouldn't  give  my  commis- 
sion, boys,  that's  it !  give  my  commission  to 
have  had  the  satisfsxction  of  doin'  Fall-leaf's 
work."  Nettleton  looked  savagely  at  the 
body  of  the  dead  man,  seeming  to  feel  that 
he  had  made  a  personal  sacrifice  in  permit- 
ting the  Indian  to  kill  his  enemy. 

It  would  appear  that  both  Fall-leaf  and 
Nettleton,  when  kicked  off  the  ledge,  fell  at 

\ 


its  foot  without  injury,  as  the  base  was 
banked  up  to  a  considerable  distance  with 
the  decayed  and  water-soaked  debi-vi  of  the 
bank,  down  which  they  rolled  into  the 
water.  They  had  recovered,  and  stepped 
out  into  the  stflpkn  to  look  up  to  the  ledge, 
when  they  beheld  Wells  and  Walker  con- 
fronted. In  a  moment  the  rebel  staggered, 
and  went  bounding  off  the  ledge,  and,  like 
his  two  antagonists,  came  tumbling  and 
sliding  down  the  declivity,  landing  at  the 
water's  brink  upon  his  feet.  There  he  was 
received  by  the  Indian,  with  the  wild 
whoop  which  startled  those  above.  Nettle- 
ton, in  honor  bound  not  to  interfere,  stood 
by  while  the  two  fierce  foes  closed  in  deadly 
conflict.  Walker,  though  a  resolute  and 
strong  man,  was  not  equal  in  a  knife  fight 
to  the  supple  savage,  iyier  a  few  passes, 
Fall-leaf  buried  his  knife  in  the  rebel's 
bosom.  Thus  closed  the  career  of  a  bad 
man — bad  by  nature,  but  rendered  doubly 
bad  by  the  cause  which  he  espoused.  To 
serve  that  cause  he  had  to  betray  his  coim- 
try,  desert  his  friends,  stifle  the  voice  of 
conscience,  perjure  his  honor,  become  a 
hypocrite  and  a  deceiver:  after  that,  all 
other  degrees  of  crime  were  easy. 

Wells  followed  the  men  at  length,  and 
appeared  on  the  spot.  He  was  shocked  at 
the  sight  before  him,  but  conceded  its  jus- 
tice. His  own  wish  was  to  have  secured 
Walker  for  trial  and  punishment  according 
to  military  law ;  yet,  it  must  be  acknow- 
ledged that,  many  times,  he  felt  like  wreak- 
ing condign  personal  vengeance  on  the 
head  of  the  man  who  had  wrought  so  suc- 
cessfully in  ci-ime.  He  ordered  the  body 
to  be  buried  in  the  debris  at  the  foot  of  the 
cliff;  and  there  it  reposes  to-day,  with  no 
monument  save  the  cave  above,  which  will 
long  remain  as  a  witness  to  the  traitor's 
crime  and  traitor's  doom. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

The  Body- Guard's  Sickriess  and  Dure. 

SlowXiY  the  party  wended  its  way  back  to 
the  mill.  Just  at  nightfall  it  came  in  sight 
of  the  lowly  hut  which  covered  the  treasure 
so  dear  to  the  heart  of  the  rescued  maiden. 
How  her  eager  arms  longed  to  clasp  her 
brother's  form  to  her  bosom — how  her  ears 
longed  for  the  sound  of  his  voice !  The 
wings  of  the  swallow  would  have  been 
slow  for  her  pining  soul ;  but  the  mornent 


THE  APPARITION. 


45 


of  reunion  came  at  last — the  dead  vf&a 
made  alive,  the  lost  restored.  Miss  Hay- 
ward,  gallanted  by  Wells,  pressed  on  ahead 
of  the  troop,  and  their  panting  steeds  at 
length  stood  riderless  befogBttie  cabin-door, 
for  the  riders  had  disappejwlR  within. 

The  meeting  of  brother  and  sister  was 
one  of  mingled  pleasure  and  pam.  Both 
had  suffered  so  much  that  to  think  of  it 
was  pain.  Captain  Bayward  was  greatly 
emaciated.  Loss  of  blood,  fever,  hunger 
and  exposure  would  have  .ended  a  life  less 
tenacious  than  his ;  but,  despite  his  suflfering, 
the  presence  of  friends,  the  rescue  of  his 
sister,  the  anticipated  happiness  of  her  union 
with  the  man  who  had  proven  himself  so 
well  worthy  of  her — all  conspu'ed  to  give  an 
elasticity  to  his  spirits  more  potent  than  the 
infusions  of  herbs  prepared  by  the  not  un- 
skilled hands  of  old  Madge,  who,  from  an 
enemy,  had,  "  by  the  force  of  couldn't  help 
herself,"  as  Nettleton  declared,  become  a 
useful  instrument  at  a  critical  moment. 

And  what  about  Nettleton?  All  day 
long  after  the  morning's  experience  at  the 
cave,  he  had  plodded  on  soberly,  somewhat 
absorbed  in  his  own  reflections.  Behind 
him  sat  Fall-leaf,  who,  from  his  weak  state, 
was  well  content  to  ride.  The  Indian, 
though  perfectly  silent  and  apparently  indif- 
ferent to  all  things,  now  that  his  work  was 
done,  still  was  inwardly  pleased  at  the  res- 
cue and  the  thought  of  the  pleasure  in  store 
for  the  captain,  of  whose  safety  he  had  been 
informed  by  Nettleton ;  and  he  was  quite 
willing  to  go  into  camp  for  a  few  days 
before  putting  out  again  on  his  endless 
scouts. 

"  Nettle  be  sick?"  he  at  length  asked  of 
his  companion. 

"  Not  by  a  dam  sight,  Ingen  ?" 

"  Nettle  be  sick — Fall-leaf  knows  it !" 

"  You  be  danged  to  damation,  you  red 
onion-head  of  a  Delaware  !"  was  the  some- 
what excited  answer,  as  he  turned  in  the 
saddle  and  stared  the  Indian  in  the  face. 

Fall-leaf  smiled.  "  Nettle  want  physic — 
Miss  Long  give  Nettle  physic,"  he  obsti- 
nately persisted. 

"  Now  look  here,  Mr.  Ingen,  ef  you  wants 
to  flgliifc^jest  you  say  so,  and  I'll  be  cata- 
wampussed  ef  I  don't  lick  you  wuss'n  a 
nigger  what's  got  ^  mad  woman  arter 
him !" 

"  Fall-leaf  no  want  to  fight  Nettle.  May- 
be whip  Nettle — den  what  Miss  Long 
Bay?" 

"  Toh — ^yoh  I  j(  \  mean,  sneakia'  son  of 


a  brick-kiln  I  Ef  you  don't  stop  that  clap- 
per in  your  head,  I'll  be  switched  ef  I  don't 
put  a  peg  tlu-ough  it!"  And  he  set  his 
face  fii-mly  to  the  front,  roweled  the  horse 
severely  with  his  spurs,  and  dashed  ahead 
at  a  speed  quite  uncomfortable  to  the  pro- 
voking Delaware. 

When  the  cavalcade  reached  the  cabin, 
Nettleton  did  not  obtrude  himself  upon  the 
party  within.  For  an  hour  or  more  they 
were  alone.  At  length  Hayward  asked: 
"  Where  is  my  brave  preserver  ?  Why  is  he 
not  here  to  enjoy  our  happiness?  And 
Fall-leaf,  too ;  I  would  thank  him  as  he  de- 
serves, the  noble  and  devoted  savage." 

Search  was  made.  Fall-leaf  was  found 
out  by  the  camp-fire,  undergoing  the  pro- 
cess of  the  lotion-cure  for  his  wounds,  at  the 
hands  of  Madge,  who  was  carefully  wash- 
ing the  bruised  and  cut  flesh  of  the  red-man. 
AH  inquiries  for  Nettleton  were  fruitless ; 
he  was  not  to  be  found.  It  was  ascertained, 
at  length,  that  his  horse  also  was  gone. 
Many  were  the  surmises  as  to  the  cause  of 
his  absence,  and  fears  were  expressed  for  his 
safety. 

Morning  came,  and  the  party,  now  re- 
joined by  the  entire  battalion,  prepared  to 
move,  by  easy  stages,  ft-om  the  valley  to- 
ward the  line  of  march  pursued,  by  the 
retreating  army.  Captain  Hayward  was 
made  quite  comfortable  in  a  camp-wagon, 
with  his  sister  for  companion  and  nurse. 
Fall-leaf  pushed  out  far  ahead  to  scout  and 
secure  the  command  from  surprise.  Adju- 
tant Hinton  and  Wells  were  tireless  in  their 
devotion  to  the  comfort  and  safety  of  their 
charge.  It  was  a  pleasant  journey — that 
week  of  slow  progress  toward  Tipton.  ^  At 
length,  however,  the  village  hove  in  sight. 
The  white  tents  dotting  the  hills  and  val- 
\r,%s  proved  that  the  division  was  there. 
While  yet  a  long  way  off',  a  party  of  horse- 
men, accompanied  by  ladies,  was  seen 
dashing  ofl"  at  full  speed  toward  the  spot 
where  the  battalion  had  halted  for  its  noon 
bivouac.  Wells  caught  sight  of  the  party, 
and  with  his  glass  made  out  the  gaunt  form 
of  Nettleton  far  ui  advance.  Behind  him 
on  the  same  horse  rode  a  female,  whose 
identity  the  officer  could  not  fix.  Nearer 
and  nearer  the  horsemen  came,  until,  after 
an  exciting  race,  they  dashed  into  the 
camp — Nettleton  and  Sally  Long  !  They 
were  received  with  a  wild  huzza  from  the 
entire  troop,  and  none  shouted  louder  than 
Nettleton  himself 

"  Hooray !  hooray !   By  the  eternal  jingo  T' 


46 


THE  PRISONER  OF  THE  MILL. 


he  cried,  leaping  from  the  horse,  and  leaving 
Miss  Sally  sitting  there  alone,  before  the 
eyes  of  the  joyous  and  excited  troops. 
Making  his  way  to  the  captain's  "  marquee  " 
— as  the  men  had  named  the  wagon — 
he  was  welcomed  by  Hay  ward  in  a- manner 
which  quickly  turned  his  servant's  joy  to 
mourning,  for  the  embrace  of  real  affection 
bestowed  quite  upset  Nettlcton's  confidence. 

"  Pm  nothin'  but  a  great  darn  skunk,  any 
how !"  he  exclaimed,  as,  breaking  away 
from  the  captain's  embrace,  he  started  for 
his  horse  and  the  neglected  Sally. 

"  Nettle  be  sick  !" 

He  turned  to  behold  Fall-leaf  gazing 
upon  him  in  mock  compassion. 

"  Not  by  a  danged  sight,  you  infernal 
lump  of  glory !"  he  now  shouted,  as,  clasp- 
ing the  Indian  in  his  arms,  he  gave  the  red- 
man  a  hug  which  brought  forth  a  grunt. 

"  Ugh !  Nettle  make  Fall-leaf  sick ! 
Guess  Nettle  got  full  of  Miss  Sally  now  !" 

"  Yes,  sar ;  and  thar  she  is,  in  all  her 
glory !"  was  the  rejoinder,  as  the  "  body- 
guard" pointed,  in  evident  pride,  to  the 
smiling  woman. 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury  !  let  me  present 
to  you  my  wife — the  dangdest  sk —  no,  the 
most  blissful  woman  you  ever  saw." 

"  Tour  wife !"  exclaimed  a  dozen  voices 
at  once. 

"  Yes,  my  wife  !  Hitched  to  me  tighter'n 
a  handle  to  the  jug,  by  Chaplain  Disbrow, 
two  days  ago,  by  the  eternal  jingo  I" 


This  was  enough  for  the  men.  All  order 
gave  way  before  the  hilarious  uproar  which 
followed.  They  pressed  around  Sally  to 
offer  their  congratulations,  which  the  de- 
lighted wife  ^Jih-ed  with  great  good-nature 
and  dignity,  s^Feitting  where  she  had  been 
left — behind  the  saddh',  on  the  hoi-sc. 

At  this  moment  the  party  first  descried 
rode  up.  It  was  composed  of  Mrs.  Ilinton, 
Miss  Morton  and  a  number  of  friends  eager 
to  welcome  the  captain  and  his  sister,  of 
whose  fortunes  Nettleton  had  most  unex- 
pectedly, three  days  before,  brought  the  news 
to  camp.  That  it  was  a  joyous  meeting 
may  well  be  assumed. 

Does  not  our  story  here  end  ?  To  say 
that  Miss  Mamie  Hayward  soon  became 
Mrs.  Wells,  in  the  presence  of  the  whole 
division — that  a  grand  gala- day  followed — 
is  but  half  the  truth,  however ;  for,  at  the 
same  time,  another  bridegroom  was  there  in 
the  form  of  the  pale  but  happy  Captain 
Henry  Hayward,  who  took  to  be  his  com- 
forter and  his  much-needed  nurse,  the 
woman  who  loved  him  most  truly — Miss 
Nettie  Morton.  It  was,  indeed,  a  most 
happy  consmnmation  of  a  drama  wliich 
promised,  at  one  time,  to  end  only  in  sor- 
row and  broken  hearts. 

Not  the  least  happy  of  all  that  throng, 
nor  the  least  noted,  was 

Nettleton,  the  Captatn^'s  Bodt-Guakd. 


'rmr,  'ESD, 


'"-x 


